


Lights Up

by TwistingMoonbeam



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Character!Thomas - Freeform, Gen, Orange Side - Freeform, Protective Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Protective Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Protective Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Protective Deceit Sanders, Protective Logic | Logan Sanders, Protective Morality | Patton Sanders, sanders sides orange side
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:48:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23211259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistingMoonbeam/pseuds/TwistingMoonbeam
Summary: Things have been weird for Thomas lately, and the sides are starting to notice.Lethargic, procrastinating, and growing a sweet tooth sharp as a fang, Thomas doesn’t seem to have the energy to do anything. When the sides come together to get to the bottom of the issue, the orange side appears, and makes it apparent he isn’t interested in releasing his sudden hold on Thomas. Fearing Thomas could spiral beyond their reach, the sides must work together to save Thomas from a part of himself he never thought would have a dark side.Title and chapter names are taken from the song “Lights Up” by Harry Styles.Semi-sequel to "The Good in Me" (but you don't HAVE to read it to read this new story).
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton & Thomas Sanders
Comments: 35
Kudos: 93





	1. What Do You Mean?

“I still have so much to do...”

Thomas rubbed his eyes as he muttered despairingly to himself. It was late, and he was _still_ working on the edit for the most recent video. Joan had already texted him saying they were going to bed, but Thomas was still up working.

The clock in the corner of his computer switched to midnight, and he grimaced. This week was _nuts_. His electric bill was due soon, he had a work-out planned at the gym in the morning, he had to clean his bathroom and get his oil changed, and he had to pick up a gift for his brother’s birthday at the end of the week. He had three short videos to film tomorrow, as well as two separate meetings about merch and the next Sanders Sides throughout the day. Not to mention he was still on his diet, so he couldn’t indulge in coffee or sweets to at least give him the sugar rush he needed to finish his work.

_Sugar would only provide a short burst of energy, Thomas. The crash you would surely experience later would only act as a detriment to your already inconsistent sleep cycle. You know this._

Thomas rolled his eyes, hearing Logan’s voice in his head. _Way to kick a guy when he’s down._ He leaned back in his chair, arms out as he stretched. Look, he loved his job. He loved his life. He was so lucky to get to create and entertain for a living. But golly gosh, did it become overwhelming sometimes to juggle so many responsibilities at once. He knew he’d had one too many debates with his sides on the topic of balancing responsibilities with fun, but it was all becoming a little too much. He’d been feeling that way a lot lately: overwhelmed and stressed, desperate for just a minor reprieve. 

Okay, maybe he should be honest, before Deceit showed up: he felt like he was _drowning._

He spied at the to-do list on his desk, wanting nothing more than to crumple it into a ball and toss it in the trash. He just wanted a day off. That was all. Just a day to sleep in, relax in bed, and watch and eat whatever he wanted _whenever_ he wanted. No thinking about getting behind on work, or what the snacks were doing to his body, or feeling panicked about creating something right then and there. Just some down time. A little vacay. Was that too much to ask?

He sighed, shaking his head. Yes, it _was_ too much to ask. Logan wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if he went astray from his meticulously written daily schedule. Roman would go on and on about the pursuit of creative nirvana or whatever if Thomas shot down one of his ideas. Patton would sulk if Thomas did anything ethically incorrect. And Virgil...well, Virgil would send him on the guilt trip of the century if he purposefully disregarded work.

He thought about Deceit and Remus, wondering if they’d take his side, but knew even his Dark Sides wouldn’t be on board. Deceit was constantly on Thomas’s case about new career prospects and new opportunities, so he clearly wouldn’t be happy with Thomas taking a day off. And even if Remus was okay with Thomas chilling at home for a day, that just meant he’d bombard Thomas with intrusive thoughts (or hide behind the couch “in the buff”), so Thomas knew that also wasn’t an option.

Thomas eyed the clock again, biting his lip. _A day off would be nice,_ he mused. _But I’ve got work to do._

He got back to editing, but just as he was about to switch gears and check his email, he heard the soft beginnings of music behind him. 

_“How ’bout a lil’ self-care?”_

“Huh?” Thomas froze, spinning in his chair to look behind him. 

There was nothing out of the ordinary upon inspection of his room, but he thought he’d just heard someone singing like... _him_. His voice, singing a tune he’d never heard before, accompanied by some sort of string instrument. 

He turned back to his computer, frowning in suspicion, only for the song to pick up again, this time louder: _“That’s exactly what we should do…”_

Thomas jumped up from his chair, freaked out. Where was that coming from? Had he accidentally left his music playing on his phone? But his phone sat on his desk, his Spotify not open. Was he going crazy?

He scrubbed at his face, tiredness seeping into his bones. All of the sudden...going to sleep didn’t sound like such a bad idea. After all, how was he going to function tomorrow if he was running on no sleep? 

His gaze drifted back to his computer. _But I have work to do…_ He could feel himself fighting back sleep, his urge to keep working overcoming his exhaustion.

_“Because just a lil’ self-care…”_

Thomas’s whole body became weak and fatigued. Alarm bells went off in his head as he tripped toward his bed, falling onto his covers like he’d lost the ability to walk. He felt like he’d been zapped of his energy, his eyes heavy. He was suddenly craving sleep, even though he’d been combating it a minute ago.

_“Will do the healing for you…”_

Through his bleary vision, Thomas saw something manifest before him: a figure playing an instrument, singing to him with his own voice. The song lulled him under the blankets, his head hitting the pillow clumsily. Thomas’s desire to work and be productive had seemingly been snuffed out like a candle, and now all his wanted was to rest, his stress and worries gone. 

The last thing Thomas saw before being overcome by blackness was a silhouette, glowing a bright, misty orange as he sang him to sleep.


	2. I'm Sorry, By the Way

Logan frowned.

Peering up from his Sherlock Holmes novel, he tuned in on a distant, yet familiar, beeping. Out in the real world, Thomas’s current favorite song was blaring from his alarm clock. _Again._

Logan placed his book onto his desk and rose from his chair, irked. This was the _fifth time_ Thomas had snoozed his alarm. What in the name of Marie Curie did he think he was doing, still in bed at eleven A.M.? A quick glance at the calendar enlightened Logan that Thomas was hours behind on his typical morning routine, meaning he hadn’t yet worked out, had a nutritious breakfast, or showered. Which meant his work for the day was going to be further pushed back, severely affecting the amount of tasks he could accomplish today.

_Unacceptable._

Logan rose up into Thomas’s room, his frown deepening in disgust. Thomas’s room was a mess, clothes strewn about and intermingled with old fast food take-out bags across the floor. The TV was still on in the living room, hooked up to Thomas’s various video game consoles that had apparently been abandoned sometime in the middle of the night. Thomas himself was snoring away in bed, wrapped up in his comforter like a burrito, drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth onto his pillow. 

Logan conjured a poster board presentation on an easel to his right, color coded with pie charts and bar graphs to describe how far back Thomas had pushed himself by oversleeping. Pulling open his pointer, Logan cleared his throat. “Thomas.”

Thomas was still, practically comatose in bed.

Logan tapped his pointer against his open palm, quickly losing his patience. _“Thomas.”_

Thomas mumbled in his sleep, rotating onto his side.

Rolling his eyes, Logan poked Thomas in the stomach with his pointer. “Thomas, please do not force my hand. I will summon Virgil, and he will not be so patient. He will scare the—er, what is the phrase again? The trousers off of you? Regardless of such a fruitless metaphor, he will do it.”

Nothing. 

Sighing, Logan pushed his pointer down and picked up his posters, sticking his nose in the air poshly. “Well, frankly, Thomas, this is quite disappointing. I was in the mindset that we were _past_ such unproductive behavior. When you are ready to get _out_ of bed and _back_ to work, please summon the resident cool guy.” He paused. “Me. It’s me. _I’m_ the cool guy. Anyway...goodbye.”

As Logan sunk out, he could have sworn he heard Thomas murmur his name.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

Roman sighed dramatically.

“Oh, what’s a creative side to do, when he’s overflowing with so many genius ideas? If only someone with a music and entertainment career was around to hear what I’ve come up with! I’m practically wasting away from neglect!” He draped his arm across his face, pretending to faint. “Don’t go toward the light, old boy,” he told himself, woeful, as he stretched across the living room floor and reached out to open air. “Strength is fading...tell Virgil...I still want his posters.”

He went slack, sticking his tongue out and feigning death.

A moment passed, but all Roman could hear were the sounds from the video game Thomas was playing. He peeked up. From his vantage point on the floor, he could barely see Thomas’s profile, face concealed by the quilt he’d thrown over his head. Thomas mashed buttons as he played _Kingdom Hearts 3_ , his body positioned lazily across the couch. It was late afternoon, and Thomas was still in his pajamas and slippers, his oily hair sticking out from underneath the blanket.

Roman popped up next to the couch, arms crossed as he huffed. He tapped his foot, waiting for Thomas to notice him, to say absolutely _anything_.

“Seriously, Thomas?” he asked, annoyed. “I’m trying to be very subtle in my attempt to drop hints that I want to create, but all you’re concerned with is the video game? After all, that performance was Oscar-worthy!”

Thomas grunted, continuing to play, as if he hadn’t even heard Roman.

“Thomas, come _on_! I’ve got so many ideas for videos! For original songs, and skits, and amazing angles for our next Instagram selfie!” He lowered his arms, slumping. “You don’t care about my ideas at all?”

On the TV screen, Sora, Donald, and Goofy defeated the final boss for the Toy Story world. Thomas brought his legs up onto the couch with him, disappearing further into his mountain of blankets.

Roman swallowed, his eyes stinging. He felt rejected, as if his ideas weren’t even worth Thomas’s time. He’d spent the previous night sketching up outlines for scripts, plans for brand new music for the YouTube channel, and a fabulous way to ask out the cute waiter from the diner around the corner. Normally, Thomas was so enthralled by Roman and the chance to get creative—now he wouldn’t even glance in Roman’s direction. 

Roman sunk out without another word, convinced Thomas wouldn’t even notice he’d left.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

Patton smiled nervously.

“Um...kiddo?”

It was late, and they were in the kitchen. A scorned Roman and an exasperated Logan had come to Patton, complaining of Thomas’s recent behavior. Patton, eager to subdue everyone’s worries, had gone to see Thomas, only to find him rifling through the fridge at ten o’clock at night.

Patton watched as Thomas threw a carton of ice cream over his shoulder and onto the counter, then leftover dip from a party the other night, then a candy bar. 

“Doncha think eating this late is gonna mess with your sleep?” Patton said lightly. “Especially all that sugar! It sure won’t be _sweet_ when you wake up later with a tummy ache!”

Thomas didn’t reply, instead turning and reaching up to the right to search in his cabinets.

“Thomas, is everything alright?” Patton asked, furrowing his brow. He hadn’t wanted to take Roman and Logan too seriously when they’d come to him, but now he could see what they meant. _Their_ Thomas, while not perfect, wouldn’t give in to such bad habits so extremely! And all in the same day! “Are you feeling okay?” he prompted. “This isn’t about what you said to that waiter at the diner yesterday, is it? Don’t even worry, I thought your pun about the eggs Benedict was funny!”

Thomas tossed a pack of cookies behind him, refusing to even face Patton.

Patton pouted. “Kiddo...you’re not mad at _us_ , are you? Just talk to me. You’ve got Logan and Roman all riled up, and...well, honestly, Thomas, you’re scarin’ me a little. I’ve never seen you act this way before.”

A bag of gummy worms landed on the counter with a _thwak!_

Patton winced, hugging himself. “Okay, kiddo, if you, um, _don’t_ say so...but don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

He sunk out, chewing on his lip, as he heard Thomas rustle around for a bag of chips.

He supposed desperate times called for desperate measures.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

Virgil scowled.

_“I’m gonna kill him.”_

He couldn’t believe the nerve of Thomas. There he’d been, minding his own business in his room, jamming out to some _Panic! At the Disco_ in bed, when Patton had burst in, frantic and fretful. Apparently Thomas hadn’t gotten _anything_ done today: no filming, no writing, no meetings, no chores. He’d had a whole list of things to do that day, and he’d actually managed to make himself _behind_!

Through his irritation, Virgil couldn’t shake the shroud of concern that was enveloping him. Sure, Thomas had his moments of being lazy and unhealthy, but this was to a new level that the sides had never seen before. And _ignoring_ Logan, Roman, and Patton? Moving around the house like a zombie? Something was up. And it wasn’t doing anything for the headache pounding behind Virgil’s eyes.

Rising up into Thomas’s bedroom, Virgil was met with the sight of Thomas laid out like a starfish in bed. A pillow covered his face, and he hadn’t even bothered to remove his slippers and robe before he had gotten comfortable. A half-empty package of Oreos was still in his hand as he snoozed the day away.

Virgil growled, his hands becoming fists as he rolled up his sleeves. Looks like he was working overtime tonight. “Thomas.”

Like how Logan had described to him earlier, Thomas gave no indication he’d heard. 

Virgil drifted to Thomas’s work desk, appraising the to-do list that Thomas had made the night before (a.k.a., the list that Logan had made the night before). He clenched his teeth. Thomas was supposed to have filmed the ad for a sponsor that was going to be in front of the next Sanders Sides episode that morning. Without that ad, the whole video was going to have to be pushed back, even though he and Joan had already picked out a release date. And if they didn’t include the ad at all, Thomas would lose his sponsorship, which would severely affect his income for the month. 

Virgil went down the list, getting more and more angry. Thomas was also supposed to have gotten his oil changed, shopped for a birthday gift for his brother, and filmed short videos for his Instagram today: all of which he never did. But it was the final thing on the list that made him see red.

_6pm: dinner with the team!_

Thomas had missed the dinner meeting he had scheduled last week with his team. They were all going to the local sushi place to eat, talk future plans for the YouTube channel, and spend time together. Spending time with friends was one of the most important things for Virgil. _And Thomas had missed it._

Virgil whipped around, flaring his nostrils as he hissed, _“Thomas!”_ in his most ferocious Tempest Tongue. _“You didn’t get anything done today, you’re slacking on your work, and you missed the dinner meeting with your friends! If you don’t get your act together now, your life is going to fall apart!”_

He sent waves of anxiety through Thomas, waiting, an ornery curl to his lip. He expected Thomas to pop up out of bed, panicking about how unproductive he’d been today and how behind he was, how he’d forgotten about the meeting and how now all of his friends hated him and thought he was a slob.

Instead, Thomas coughed in his sleep, absently scratching his stomach.

Virgil frowned, his fists unfurling. He narrowed his eyes, confusion and alarm beginning to flood him. 

Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong.

“Thomas,” he rasped, approaching the bed. “Thomas, please get up. I’m serious. What’s wrong with you?”

Upon continuing to not get a response, Virgil snarled and grabbed the pillow, ripping it off of Thomas’s face. “Thomas, _listen to_ —”

He gasped, backpedaling away from the bed. _No. Nononononono._

Thomas blearily blinked back at him, looking exhausted and morose. But it was his eyes that were making Virgil lose it. They were as orange as the carrots Thomas hated so much; orange like traffic cones, jack-o-lanterns, and Monarch butterflies. A color that sent a streak of fear into Virgil’s heart.

Suddenly, everything made horrible sense. 

“Guys,” Virgil called out, pulling his hood up in a desperate attempt to calm down. “Get in here. _Now_.” 


	3. Never Coming Back Down

“This is very disconcerting.”

Virgil shot Logan an incredulous look. “Um, you _think_?”

The sides were together for an emergency meeting, dispersed to different parts of the bedroom. Thomas stared up at the ceiling as he lay in bed, his occasional deep breaths and yawns the only thing indicating to the sides that he was alive. Upon seeing the change in Thomas’s eyes, Virgil had immediately summoned everyone, his Tempest Tongue shaking the Mind Palace like an earthquake.

Each side was handling the problem with Thomas in his own way. Patton sat on the edge of the bed next to Thomas, gazing down at him with paternal concern. Logan was puzzling away in an effort to solve the mystery, observing Thomas in his Sherlock Holmes outfit and taking notes. Roman and Remus were sullenly reading through the script for Thomas’s upcoming callback and murmuring quietly to each other, turning to creativity to distract from the current issue. Virgil stood in the doorway, watching the tense scene play out in front of him as he burrowed deeper into his hoodie.

All the while, Deceit (or, Ethan, as he was now known to Thomas), paced and raged.

“This _isn’t_ ridiculous,” Deceit fumed, hands flying as he continued on his tirade. “He shouldn’t even be able to _reach_ Thomas. And I haven’t yet allowed Thomas to know about him yet! How did he manage to get this close right under my nose?”

“Wouldn’t we all like to _nose_ ,” Patton said weakly.

Logan hummed under his breath, putting his pen behind his ear so he could pretend to smoke from his pipe. “It’s certainly the quarrelsome conundrum. How did a side of which Thomas was not aware gain so much control of his consciousness?” 

“You’re _sure_ you didn’t miss anything?” Virgil hissed at Deceit, eyes bright in the shadow of his hood. “He could have snuck right by you one day when you weren’t looking. He could have put you under his weird spell, too.”

Deceit bristled. The dead serious look he leveled at them gave Virgil eerily familiar goosebumps. “I’m Thomas’s deceit. I’m responsible for all of his inner truths. I _don’t_ miss anything.”

Virgil nodded doggedly, guilty that his automatic instinct was to doubt Deceit. He had to accept that the others were part of the group now, and that he’d have to start being open to their contributions. For the love of Brenden Urie, didn’t he know what it was like for your attempts at helping to be misjudged as antagonistic.

“What’s going on with him?” Roman asked, gesturing to Thomas. “Is he even awake?”

“On the contrary,” Logan replied, puffing on his pipe. “Observe the way Thomas is maintaining his natural equilibrium while interacting with his environment. While mute, he is still perceiving external stimuli, such as the items in the kitchen. It is my hypothesis that he is somewhere between his consciousness and his subconsciousness.”

“English?” Roman and Remus requested.

Logan rolled his eyes. “ _Thomas_ is asleep. But his body is being controlled, forced to do the bidding of whomever is in control. Hence, the suspicious orange hue to his irises.”

“But _why_? Why _now_?” Patton demanded, wringing his hands with his cat onesie. “Things are going so well for Thomas! He’s going to the callback, his friends are wonderful, the channel has never been more popular, we’re all getting along—why is... _he_...doing this?”

“Unfortunately,” Deceit responded, uneasy, “we may only be able to find out straight from him. Whatever foolish plan he’s up to, he’s clearly not letting up unless we act first.”

“What can we even do?” Virgil snapped, the anxiety he was holding down hemorrhaging into his voice. “We all already tried waking him up.”

“Ah, but we’ve tried waking him up from _out here_ ,” Logan said, index finger in the air. “But have any of us tried waking him up from in there?” He pointed to Thomas’s temple.

“Brilliant, Logan!” Roman exclaimed. He conjured noisemakers, prepared to hand them out to the other sides. “Let’s throw the most outrageous New Year’s Eve party in Thomas’s mind that he’s ever seen! We’ll be so loud, he’ll have this sound stuck in his head for weeks!”

“Er, well, while I appreciate the enthusiasm, Roman,” Logan mused, “I was actually thinking of someone else to do the waking up. Since Thomas is asleep, we must jarr him awake in the most... _intrusive_ way possible.”

All eyes swung to Remus, who, upon realizing what Logan was suggesting, grinned maniacally. “Finally, a lightbulb moment I can get behind! Oh, don’t worry, everyone. A few short moments with me, and Thomas will be _wide_ awake.”

As Remus rubbed his hands together in glee, Patton warned, “Now, Remus, don’t go too crazy in there.”

“Yes, Remus, remember,” Deceit said with laughter in his voice. “We’re trying to wake up Thomas, not scar him for life.”

Remus shrugged. “You say ‘scar for life,’ I say ‘enlighten.’ But fine, I’ll go easy on him. I’ll only make him think about a _few_ methods of how to torture and kill that old man that complained about the rainbow shirt Thomas wore to the bank yesterday. Byeeeeee!”

Remus sunk out with an excited wave.

Patton chuckled nervously, tugging at his shirt collar. “Well, Remus sure does love his job, I will say that.”

“And he’s good at it,” Deceit added. He began to tick off with his fingers. “I’d say we’re going to have Thomas awake and alert in five, four, three, two—”

Suddenly, Thomas sprung up, gasping as if he’d been underwater. The sides were relieved to see that Thomas’s eyes were back to normal, the orange spiral effect gone.

“Thomas!” Patton cheered.

Panting, Thomas felt his chest to assure that he was awake and wiped at his brow. “Hey, guys," he wheezed. "I just had the _weirdest_ nightmare—”

“You have me to thank for that!” Remus announced as he arrived back to the bedroom. He grinned and twirled the end of his mustache. “And I must say, it was some of my best work. Oh, all of that delicious gore! Thomas, you really are a sicko, I love it.”

Thomas paled, clearing his throat. “Um, while I appreciate the work, Remus, why exactly did you give me that nightmare?”

“Because you wouldn’t wake up!” Patton wailed. “Oh, Thomas, it was awful! You were like the living dead! You weren’t hearing or seeing any of us and your eyes were all kooky and creepy and you’ve barely left your bed all day and—”

“Whoa, _what_?” Thomas demanded, hands up to slow Patton down. He realized he was still in pajamas, in bed, and gulped. “Okay, now I’m worried. What’s going on here, guys?”

“I’m afraid we have a major problem here, Thomas.” Logan morphed back into his usual clothes. “What do you recall from the past twenty-four hours?”

“Umm…” His eyebrows furrowing, Thomas tried to retrace his steps from yesterday, but found he couldn’t remember... _anything_. He remembered coming home from the gym yesterday afternoon, with plans to clean up around the house and work on the newest Sanders Sides all night, but then—

_Wait._

“I remember...a voice,” Thomas said, frowning.

“ _What_ voice?” Virgil demanded, ripping his hood down from his head.

The sides watched Thomas as he struggled to explain, stricken with apprehension. “I remember...I was editing the new video. And then I heard someone from behind me start singing some song. He sounded just like me.” His hand dropped from his chest to his lap. “That’s all I can remember.”

Patton’s hands flew to his mouth. Virgil was frozen to his spot in the doorway. Roman exchanged a stern look with Logan. Remus walked over to pacify Deceit, who was radiating anger.

“Thomas,” Logan said quietly. “I believe you’ve finally met your seventh side.”

“My _WHAT_?”

“That fashion-depraved freeloader!” Deceit hissed, snake eye alight with fury. “I _told_ him it wasn’t time yet! How dare he defy me!”

“How did he get so close to Thomas without any of us knowing?” Roman questioned, arms folded across his chest. “Surely _one_ of us would have known if a seventh side was sneaking around.”

“Well, whatever it is that he did,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses, “it’s suffice to say that he has fully infiltrated Thomas’s mind. To the point where he was able to take full control.”

“Full control?” Thomas repeated shrilly. “Who _is_ this guy?”

Just then, the soft strumming of an instrument filled Thomas’s ears. The playing was controlled, purposeful, like a song the musician had performed countless times. As the strumming became louder and faster, an orange blur rose up into the corner of the room, speaking with a voice that sent chills prickling across Thomas’s body.

“About _time_ you asked about me, Thomas.”


	4. I Could, But Wouldn't Stay

Thomas’s first impression of the orange side was...he wasn’t _quite_ what Thomas expected.

The side, of course, had his face and build, but _certainly_ not his fashion sense. He wore an oversized orange Hawaiian shirt, ripped jeans, and flip-flops, a bright orange ukulele in his hands and sunglasses on top of his head. His hair was more unkempt than Thomas typically liked to keep it, wisps sticking up in random places. Earrings shaped like tiny beds adorned his ears, a matching gold necklace hanging around his neck. His smile was easygoing, but it did nothing to calm Thomas down. 

Virgil moved from his place in the doorway to stand in front of Thomas like a protective fortress.

“Oh, take a chill pill, Eli Goth,” the orange side scoffed. “I’m not here to hurt Thomas.”

“Really?” Virgil snapped. “Because from where I’m standing, that’s exactly what you’re here to do.”

“Oh, you’re all mad about the _taking over_ thing, aren’t you?” The orange side blew a raspberry, peeved. “I should have known I’d get some flack for that.”

“Pump the breaks,” Thomas cut in. “I don’t understand what’s happening here. Who _are_ you?”

The orange side grinned at Thomas. He shone with delight, basking in some unseen light that was beaming from Thomas like a solar flare. “Thank you for asking so politely, Thomas. It’s...it’s _so_ amazing to finally meet you,” he said, and Thomas was taken aback by how genuine he was. “I…” He played a quick chord on his ukulele, striking a pose. “...am Laziness!”

Thomas blinked, attempting to keep his face unreadable. “...Laziness,” he repeated, as if figuring out the punchline to a bad joke.

“ _Yes_ , Laziness! Your gluttonous side, your relaxation side! I’m all self-care, baby.” He stretched, placing his hands behind his head as he sighed. “You get TLC because of lil’ ol’ me.”

“Huh.” Thomas surveyed the new side from top to bottom. “And that’s...all you do?”

“Sure, sure, I make you chill out! Especially when you need it most,” Laziness remarked, side-eyeing Virgil with a hint of arrogance. 

Virgil shot him a dirty look.

“Laziness.” Deceit’s voice sliced through the room like the swing of a sword. He glared at the orange side, hostility warned in every inch of his defensive stance. Lifting his head to observe Laziness with his usual condescending nature, he asked, “What do you think you’re doing out here?”

The happy-go-lucky act was quickly dropped. Laziness’s lips curved into a scowl, his eyes darkening as he drank in the sight of Deceit. “Hey, Dee. Long time no see.”

“Answer my question this instant.” The air between them sizzled. “How did you get out here? What are you doing talking to Thomas?”

“I’m talking to Thomas because I’m a _part of him_ , which is something you seem to constantly be forgetting. I see you’ve allowed yourself, Virgil, and Remus to come on out and enjoy the party,” he drawled, heaving his ukulele onto his shoulder. “So why should _I_ be shut out?”

“You _know_ why you’re shut out,” Deceit growled. “And the way you’ve behaved toward Thomas in the short time you’ve been out is continued proof that you’re not ready for this.”

“ _Not ready_?” Laziness deflated. “How can you say that? As if _any_ of you were ready to start helping Thomas face-to-face when you did.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you. Answer me.” Deceit came closer, his snake-half making him appear more intimidating than usual. The luster of his green scales was sharper against the storm of rancor spiraling across his face. “How did you get past me to reach Thomas? He shouldn’t be able to see you. You shouldn’t be able to _be_ here.”

Smirking grimly, Laziness took a casual stroll around Deceit, hands behind his back. “For as smart as you are, Dee, I’m shocked you haven’t figured it out yet. But you will. Until then, I’m here as a man on a mission: to make Thomas calm the frick down.”

“Why do you assume he requires calming down?”

Laziness turned to zero in on Logan, who met his gaze confidently. “You must be Thomas’s logic,” he said.

“You’d be correct with that observation.” Logan spoke with firm authority. “Now, back to the matter at hand. You’ve garnered the energy necessary to manifest in front of Thomas because you believe he requires…‘TLC’?”

“Of course he does!” Laziness gestured to Thomas, who sat in bed, blinking and lost. “His stress level has been through the roof. _You all_ ,” he accused, glaring at all of the other sides, “have done nothing but overwhelm him for months now. Stress with his career, stress with his personal life, stress with his morality, wedding versus callback, ‘Am I a bad person?’, blah, blah, blah. I’m sick of it and I’m taking a stand. Thomas. Needs. A _break_.”

“Thomas has time for relaxing and taking time for his mental health built into his schedule, as designed by yours truly,” Logan rebuffed. “Weekdays are for work, weekends are for engaging in whatever self-care he desires. Are you saying my schedule is...flawed?”

“Oh, snap in a snack wrap,” Roman muttered to Patton. “This La-Z Boy’s got a death wish.”

“I just don’t think he should be under so much stress all of the time,” Laziness countered. “If it’s not stressing about the big stuff, you’ve all got him freaking out over stupid little things like _ethics_. He should be sleeping! Having fun and eating whatever he wants! _Enjoying_ life.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Roman said with a slight snigger. “Thomas is in his thirties. He can’t just sit around and do nothing all day. He’s got creating to do! Writing, acting, performing, shooting videos!” He shook his head, chuckling. “What kind of life would he be living if he was just _lazy_ all of the time?”

“Yeah, kiddo,” Patton said, nervously twiddling his thumbs. “Don’t get me wrong, I want Thomas to be having as much fun as he can, too, but not to the point where it’s not good for him.” He attempted for a sunny smile, wanting Laziness on their side. “It’s not right to have too much of a good thing when there’s so much good he can do for others!”

“ _And_ adult responsibilities that he has to handle,” Logan added. “Sometimes, Thomas just doesn’t have time to just sit around and waste away. He has to take care of his home, maintain his healthy eating habits, only get the suggested eight hours of sleep, fulfill duties for his job as a content creator.” He exhaled, seemingly bored already of the whole discussion. “We can’t just do what we _enjoy_. We have to do what is necessary to _survive_.”

“Thomas can’t just drop everything and relax when he’s got so much stuff to do.” Virgil stepped further into the room, gesturing as he contributed to the explanation. He rolled his shoulders, like he was restless and wanted to get Laziness out of there as soon as possible. “Just think of all of the bad things that could happen if he’s not on top of all of his responsibilities. Being late on his taxes could eventually lead to him losing his house. Being behind on videos could make his YouTube channel disappear into oblivion. Missing out on events or dinner dates could make him lose his _friends_ ,” he said pointedly, eying Laziness right back. 

Laziness squinted as Virgil, as if really seeing him for the first time. “What’s your deal, Paranoia? I thought we’ve always been on the same side here. You know, procrastinating and ignoring everything on the outside and just staying in bed. What happened to all of that?”

“I changed,” Virgil said shortly. “I adapted to what was best for Thomas. And you should too, Zee. You can’t expect him to just lie in bed all day. You have to do what’s best for him.”

Laziness gaped at all of them. “I can’t believe you guys. You’re _seriously_ putting all of Thomas’s responsibilities above his self-care. Dee? Ree?” He addressed the Dark Sides, desperate. “I know we’ve had our differences, but you agree, don’t you? Thomas should take a breather from all of this stress? I _know_ you can’t be agreeing with the Light Sides.”

Deceit and Remus caught each other’s eye, reluctant.

“As per usual, I’ll be honest,” Remus piped up, shrugging. “Of all the sides in this gaggle, the only _D_ I want is this little white guy with a lie over here.” He threw a thumb over his shoulder at Deceit. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t at least _try_ to get along. Thomas will get to accomplish more if he’s not slapping a label on the reasoning behind every move he makes. Besides, how’s he supposed to bring my little ‘Top 10 Hottest Actors in Scary Movies’ video idea to life if he’s snoozing his life away?” He snickered, elbowing Deceit. “I’m calling that series ‘Gay, Gore, & More’! The Fanders are going to go _nuts_.”

“Ethan?” Laziness was forlorn as he talked, gazing at Deceit on the verge of devastation, as if Deceit was his last hope. “You seriously don’t think I’m ready to start helping Thomas?”

Deceit’s discomfort was palpable. He glanced back and forth between Laziness and the other sides, clearly torn. But then his eyes fell upon Thomas, and his resolve seemed to be fortified. He cleared his throat, straightened his hat, and sharpened his voice as he said, “It’s time to go back, Zee.”

Laziness’s mouth hung open, dumbfounded that everyone had rejected him. He tightened his grip on his ukulele, as if it was the only thing anchoring him to remaining calm. Teeth gritted, he spit out, “Fine. I’ll go back.”

Deceit visibly relaxed. “Thank you for cooperati—”

Laziness cut him off by plucking a frantic flurry of notes on the ukulele, singing a song under his breath, as if only to himself. When he stopped playing, Thomas’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he fell backward into bed with a _thump_.

_“Thomas!”_ Patton cried, flying into the bed to check on him.

There was chaos as Logan followed suit, zipping to Thomas’s side to assess his pulse, while Roman slapped his cheeks and yelled his name. Virgil grabbed Laziness by the front of his shirt, lifting him off of the floor and snarling, _“What did you do to him?”_

Laziness smacked Virgil’s hands off of him and stepped away, as if he’d been burned. He glowered at Deceit, his scowl twisting his face. “I’m going back,” he said simply. “And I’m taking Thomas with me.”

Before Deceit could retort, Laziness sunk out, leaving behind the echo of his song as it rang in their ears, fervent as a haunting melody. 


	5. Wouldn't Put It Like That

“He’s just asleep.”

The six remaining sides stood in a somber circle around the bed as Thomas was tucked under the covers, dozing peacefully. 

The past hour had been full of panicked attempts to wake Thomas up. Slapping him, banging on pots and pans, pouring water on his face—Remus had embarked on another trip into Thomas’s dreams to give him another nightmare, and even it had been unsuccessful. Left without any more options, the sides were at Thomas’s bedside, regrouping on what to do next.

“Heart rate is normal, respiration is his typical breaths per minute, reflexes are present, pupils—while again surrounded by an orange iris bilaterally—dilated appropriately when exposed to light,” Logan listed off. “Physiologically...he’s just asleep.”

“But...he won’t wake up.” Patton sniffled, his mouth wobbling. “We’ve tried _everything_ , Logan.”

“It is my hypothesis that Thomas won’t wake up because, well...quite frankly, I don’t think he’s here with us right now,” Logan deduced, holding his chin. “His consciousness, anyway.”

“The old Thomas can’t come to the phone right now,” Remus sang. “Why? Oh...because he’s unconscious!”

“Is that what Procrastination Pete had meant back there?” Roman asked, hands on his hips. “He took Thomas into his own _mind_?”

“Specifically, to _his_ corner of the mind.” Logan evaluated Thomas’s sleeping form, mouth puckered to the left. It was clear the wheels in his mind were whirring. “And I believe he wants us to come after him to retrieve Thomas.”

Virgil groaned, tongue poking to the side of his cheek. “Not another room,” he complained. “I can’t take going into someone else’s room so soon.”

“They’re not in his room,” Deceit said. 

All eyes swiveled to him.

Deceit had been silently stewing a few feet away from the group, staring off into space, as if lost in a memory. “I don’t know what Laziness wishes to achieve with this little stunt of his, but I don’t think he took Thomas to his room.” 

“Why?” Roman asked.

“If I know anything about him, I know Zee doesn’t like staying in his room long. He gets... unsettled.” He tugged on the ends of his gloves, speaking of the lazy side like he was an old friend. “He prefers to be in the corner of the mind solely dedicated to Thomas’s sleep patterns. He, er, likes to watch Thomas’s dreams as they play out in his sleep.” 

“You have a side that gets unsettled, and yet you never let him out to meet Thomas,” Logan said, his voice clipped.

“That is exactly _why_ I never let him out.” Deceit was immovable. “He’s too greedy, thinks he can help Thomas too much in his own _special_ way. It’s idiotic.”

“I mean…” Roman made a face. “That’s what we were all saying about you before Thomas accepted you, so...”

“My help was pushing Thomas forward. All Zee wants to do is hold him back. Having him involved could lead to dire consequences.” Deceit leveled a glower at the rest of them, daring them to disagree with him. “I won’t allow Laziness to stand in the way of Thomas’s success. Not when he’s come so far in his career.”

“But why is he doing this now?” Patton asked. “Things are going so well for Thomas! We’re all in agreement that he should go to the callback. I thought we’d finally become conglomerate?”

“ _Congruent_ , Patton,” Logan corrected, sending an eye roll to the ceiling.

“Well, apparently, this Laziness fellow has something to say about how much stress we’re putting on Thomas,” Roman dismissed. “From what he said, he decided to come a-knocking because he thinks Thomas needs to _relax_. Pfft, can you believe it? Thomas? Relax? When the callback is coming up! It’s like he _wants_ Thomas to bomb it.”

“Well, whatever the reason, he took our Tommy-boy, and I won’t stand for it!” Patton declared, finger in the air as determination overtook his face. “I don’t care if we gotta search every inch of his noggin, we are bringing him back!”

“Agreed!” Roman whipped out his sword, sticking it into the air. “No one messes with our Tomcat! If he wants Thomas, he’s going to have to go through me!”

“And me!” Patton chimed in.

“Let’s just think about this for a sec,” Virgil interrupted, doing his best not to wring his hands. Just the thought of Thomas being so out of reach, so vulnerable, was practically making him break out into hives. “You guys don’t know anything about Zee. We shouldn’t assume this is going to be so easy. How do we know this isn’t a trap? What if he’s using Thomas as bait to bring us to his corner of the mind? I...I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“For once, I concur with Virgil.” Deceit nodded, employing his smooth-talking front as he explained. “Zee is...unpredictable. That makes him reckless if he’s upset. He’s expecting us to follow him into Thomas’s mind to find him, but we’d be fools to think he’ll let us just waltz in and retrieve Thomas like we’re picking him up from daycare.” His hands, wrapped around the clasp of his cloak, curled into fists. “We have to retaliate. He wants us to come. He has some sort of plan.” 

“I have a plan, too,” Roman replied, smirking. “It’s called my katana and Remus’s Morningstar.”

“But that won’t be enough,” Deceit argued. He massaged his temples, growing more frustrated. “I never expected he would go rogue like this. I thought...if Thomas just had a little more time to adjust to making more selfish decisions, then maybe he’d be ready to meet his gluttonous side. But I should have known Zee’s patience was fraying. That I couldn’t hold him back forever.”

“It’s not your fault.” Virgil shrugged, hands in his pockets. “Our focus is Thomas. We’ve been making choices on his behalf for years to protect him from things we didn’t think he was ready for. Maybe it just takes a little trust.”

“Perhaps,” Deceit replied. “But any trust I had in Zee was smashed to bits the moment I realized he was behind throwing Thomas’s life into so much disarray.” The way his scales were gleaming in the light was almost metallic, reminding Virgil of a newly sharpened knife. There was malicious fire searing in his eyes. “When I’m finished with him, Zee will wish he’d never crossed me.”

The room was quiet, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall and Thomas’s soft breaths as he slept. One of the lightbulbs in the lamp on the desk was dead, so the bedroom was gloomier than usual, shadows crouching in every corner.

“It’s the middle of the night.” Logan disrupted the quiet. “Thomas has a long list of tasks to accomplish tomorrow, not to mention the tasks he didn’t complete today. If we’re going to do this, we have to go now.”

All six sides looked at each other, each with their own demeanor. Roman and Remus seemed excited to plunge into an adventure, weapons already drawn in anticipation. Patton’s confidence was unshakeable, and he tied his sweater tighter around his shoulder, as if tying on a cape. Logan, unsurprisingly, was indifferent, and Deceit’s rage at potentially being tricked seemed to be feeding his desire to move forward with the plan.

And Virgil?

Virgil just felt like he was going to throw up.

“We just have one singular problem,” Logan said, frowning. “We can’t just _go_ to whatever part of the mind Laziness took Thomas. Thomas has to summon us there.”

The realization nearly obliterated their resolve. The hopelessness started to soak into all of them, knowing that they couldn’t do anything to help Thomas unless he called on all of them from wherever he was. 

“Then let’s tell him to summon us,” Patton said simply. “He may be far away, but I still feel connected to him. Don’t you all feel it?”

Virgil forced himself to calm down, and focused on the link he had to Thomas. It was faint, weaker than he’d like, but...it was still there. Proof that Thomas was still there, even if he was out of reach. Proof that there was still something to fight for.

“I want you all to concentrate,” Patton instructed, a small smile on his face. “Send a message to Thomas. Tell him you want him to summon us. We want to help him. It may be our only chance.”

“Must we make this mushy-gushy?” Deceit sneered. “I’m already annoyed with this whole situation. Now we have to bring _feelings_ into it?”

“C’mon, Dee, it’ll be fun!” Remus encouraged, grinning. “I send Thomas messages all the time anyway, this is no different from a normal day!”

Patton stared down Deceit, tranquil. “I listened to you when Thomas was torn about the callback,” he said. “I trusted you when you took Thomas to the Dark Side. And it worked. Following your lead ultimately made Thomas better in the end. Now I’m asking you to follow my lead...Ethan.”

Deceit’s gaze never wavered. He sighed, acknowledging Patton as correct. “Very well. But I’m not holding any of your grubby hands and singing Kumbaya. That’s where I draw the line.”

“You can hold my hand, Dee.”

“Not the time, Remus.”

Patton was glowing. “Let’s do it.”

All of the sides closed their eyes, focusing solely on their distant link to Thomas. They channeled all of their energy into the link, sending wavelengths of concern and urgency, pleading with Thomas to summon them. 

They stayed like that for a while, silently messaging Thomas, hoping for the best. And before they knew it, one by one, they were sinking down, feeling that all-important pull from the receiving end.

“Atta boy, Tommy!” Remus cheered.

As they sank down, down, down, they readied themselves for the worst, all thinking the same mantra.

_For Thomas._


	6. Be So Sweet If Things Just Stayed the Same

Thomas was getting really sick of waking up and not knowing what was going on.

He moaned, sitting up and scratching his cheek. Everything was white, and he was disoriented, unaware of the time, where he was, what day was it? His head was throbbing, his joints stiff and his mouth dry. He needed water, sunlight, and to do something that wasn’t sleep.

“Oh, solid, you’re awake.”

A jolt of alarm forced Thomas to his feet. He whirled around, and nearly fell flat on his face. He was standing on...a _cloud_? In fact, it looked like the whole room was made of cloud, every inch fluffy and white like cotton balls. He bounced slightly every time he tried to find his footing, but it only worked to make him more woozy.

His eyes latched onto the only thing of substance that he could find: the blur of orange standing before him, watching him with timid eagerness.

Laziness’s hand shot out to steady Thomas before he could topple over. “Careful,” the orange side chuckled. “It can be kinda hard to get used to the floor.”

“Where am I?” Thomas choked.

As the haze of queasiness began to wear off, Thomas could discriminate specifics about this new room. While the walls and floor were white, there was what appeared to be a TV mounted on a cream-colored bureau in the center of the room, rainbow fractals of light reflecting off of its screen.

“This is the part of your mind,” Laziness said, “that controls your dreams.”

The rainbow from the screen was splintering Thomas’s vision. He collapsed to the floor, sticking his head between his knees, gasping as the world spun around him.

“Sorry,” Laziness murmured to him from his left. “I may have overdone it with all of the sleeping.”

“Where are the other sides?” Thomas forced out between his teeth.

Laziness paused, absorbing the question. “Not here. It’s just me and you.”

“Well, I want them here.” He needed Logan’s logical thinking, Patton’s comforting hugs, Virgil’s ferociousness, Roman’s bravado. He’d never felt so alone in his own head. 

“You don’t need them,” Laziness said, sounding like he was trying to control his temper. “We just met. Don’t you want to know more about me?”

Thomas gathered what he could from Virgil and pooled it into a withering glare. “You took control of my body, made me some lifeless puppet, messed up my whole day, and then kidnapped me. I’m nauseous, scared, and freaked out. So, no, I don’t really want to know more about you.”

Laziness stumbled back, as if Thomas’s words had the power of a shove. “You don’t mean that.”

“Um, I’m pretty sure I do.” He was channeling Roman now, sassy and sure of himself, not putting up with any BS, with a sprinkle of Deceit’s sarcasm. “I want to go back. Let me go back to my body.”

Pain exploded across Laziness’s expression. Before Thomas’s eyes, it melted into anger, and it stood out against the lightheartedness of his outfit and ukulele. “They really did mess you up,” he snorted. “I should have snuck out earlier than I did. I could have helped you sooner.”

“Snuck out?” Thomas asked, breathing in through his nose. 

“Of course. It’s Ethan’s fault I’m just now getting to meet you.” Laziness turned away, hand running through his messy hair. “I’m just trying to help you,” he continued, becoming agitated. “You don’t even know how much stress you put on yourself. How much it affects the rest of your body. You’re on the verge of exhausting yourself, Thomas. You need to _chill_.”

“What are you even talking about? I’m fine. Things are _fine_.”

“Fine? You call never having a moment of relaxation except when you fall into bed at night _fine_?” Laziness fixed a stern look at him. “Be honest with me: when was the last time you took a day off from work?”

Thomas opened his mouth to reply. _This is an easy one,_ he thought, but he was shocked to discover he couldn’t answer. “Uh…” He pondered for a minute. “I mean, I’m sure I’ve taken a day off recently, I just can’t think of the _actual_ day—”

“December 24th, 2018.”

“I’m sorry?”

“The last day when you didn’t do a lick of work, professional or personal, was Christmas Eve of last year. It’s April now. And you only took that day off because your mom chewed you out the year before for missing the family Christmas party because you were still filming. On _Christmas. Eve_.”

Thomas, speechless, slowly brought his head up from between his knees. He felt a little better now, his head no longer stuffed with fuzz, but now guilt was infecting his chest. “That can’t be true,” he said, mostly to himself. “I haven’t taken a day off in four months?”

“Oh, it’s true, alright.” Laziness wasn’t smug, or pleased that Thomas was finally hearing him out. He still appeared worried, and desperate for Thomas to understand _something_. “You’re running yourself ragged,” he said softly. “I don’t want you to fizzle out, dude. You’ve still got a lot of good to do. But not if you never take a day for yourself.”

“I…” Thomas swallowed, the revelation dawning on him. He really hadn’t taken a day off in months. Any minute when he wasn’t filming, writing, in a meeting, or recording was totally dedicated to all of his other adult responsibilities. If he wasn’t in the office with the team, he was out running errands, shopping for clothes or props he needed for auditions, visiting family, working out, or filming his short videos for Instagram. If he wasn’t filming at home with the team, he was doing the monthly livestream, on the phone to figure out merchandise, doing taxes, cleaning, trying (and sometimes failing) to cook healthy meals three times a day. 

Every hour of every day was work, work, work. When _was_ the last day he’d just slept in and done nothing? Stayed in his pajamas, watched TV or played PS4 all day, and splurged on some delivery pizza?

“That’s why I’m here,” Laziness explained, getting down on one knee to meet Thomas’s line of sight. His sincerity was a gravitational pull that Thomas felt himself getting stuck in. “I’m here to remind you to take care of yourself. That’s what the other sides have forgotten to do. They’re failing you by having you shoulder so much all at once. Don’t you think you deserve a break?”

Thomas didn’t say anything, focusing on his breathing as he mulled over Laziness’s words. Maybe...maybe this orange lunatic had a point. Thomas certainly didn’t appreciate the way he’d gone about _making_ that point, but he had a point, nonetheless. Maybe he _had_ been working too much. But was that really a bad thing? He’d never had more success in his life! The channel was thriving, his friends were supportive, and his finances were taken care of. Everything was awesome! 

So...why was this guy here then?

“Why didn’t Deceit want me to meet you?”

Laziness stiffened, mouth agape. 

“Deceit always has a plan,” Thomas went on, sitting up straight. “His whole purpose has been to keep me from truths that I’m not ready for.” He squinted, tone becoming accusing. “What about you does Deceit not want me to know about?”

Laziness’s hands visibly trembled as he glared out over Thomas’s shoulder. “Your deceitful side seems to think that I’m...distracting,” he said.

“Distracting?”

“My efforts to remind you to take a break have convinced Deceit that I’m nothing more than...an _obstacle_ to your success. Something you have to overcome in order to be successful. I guess that’s why I’m a Dark Side,” he muttered. “You don’t seem to be too huge of a fan of giving yourself some TLC every once in a while.”

Thomas considered, biting his lip. So, once again, this all came back to _Dark vs. Light_. 

“So it has nothing to do with the fact that you practically possessed me and made me miss a bunch of stuff yesterday?” Thomas demanded, doubtful. “I’ve never met you because Deceit thinks you’ll...get in the way?”

Laziness sighed, gently tightening the strings on his ukulele. “I’m not proud of what I did.” When he spoke, his voice was tinged with regret and emotion. “But I only did it because I thought I had no choice. I could _feel_ how spent you were. I thought if I didn’t step in and do something drastic, you’d completely burn yourself out. And then where would you be?”

Absently, Thomas poked the cloud floor he sat on, and the indent he made pushed back into place. “And you brought me all the way here because…?”

“Because the others don’t _want_ you to know me,” Laziness emphasized, throwing his hands up. “You saw the way they all reacted to my totally awesome entrance earlier. I’m nothing more than a gnat to all of them, getting in the way of you living some ‘fulfilling’ life.” He rolled his eyes. “Because you working your butt off seven days a week is ‘fulfilling.’”

“But...it is,” Thomas argued feebly. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love the occasional lazy day, but...this life I’ve got, this work I get to do...I love it.”

“And if you burn yourself out, then you’ll learn to hate it,” Laziness snapped suddenly, standing up. “How can you not see how I’m trying to throw you a bone here? How can it be that they’ve brainwashed you so much?”

Thomas stood, too, fighting off the way his world slanted when he was up. If Logan were here, he’d go on and on about it having something to do with blood pressure or whatever. The thought made his heart pang, and he noticed again how lonely he was here without the other sides. 

Then he felt it: like the pull from the other end of a rope, the answer to a call he normally sent, not received. A stream of warmth in his chest, like liquid sunlight. 

_The sides._ They were calling to him, from the outside world. They were trying to find him. Did he have to summon them there, like how he could only bring them to each others’ rooms? That was probably how Laziness had been able to seclude him from the others for so long. 

He hated getting them involved, especially if Laziness was potentially dangerous to them, as well. But he had no choice. He needed the whole gang’s assistance if he was going to get out of there in one piece. 

Thomas knew he had to keep Laziness talking until the sides arrived, so while he responded to the call with the command to summon all of them, he scoffed, “I haven’t been brainwashed. I’m being realistic here, dude. I know you want me to relax, but sometimes that’s just not possible. I get eight hours of sleep every night, I eat well, I watch the TV that I like _when_ I like it, and I do treat myself to a mug of ice cream every once in a while. I just think you need to back off a little.”

Laziness stared, stunned at how bold Thomas was being. “‘Back off’?”

“Yes. I’m sorry you went to all of this trouble to prove something to Deceit or whatever, but I don’t want any part of it. I just want things to go back to normal.”

“So, how things were before you met me.” Laziness was all ice now.

“Laziness, please, I don’t want to fight with you. I just...I want to go back. The other sides are probably worried sick, don’t you think?”

Laziness hesitated, then a dark smile consumed the hurt on his face. “They’re on their way to save you, aren’t they?” 

Thomas broke out into a nervous sweat. “Uh...no? Why would you think that?”

The more Thomas looked, the more it was obvious that something had changed in Laziness’s expression, like someone had just flicked a switch.

When the blood started roaring in his ears, Thomas realized that the “someone” was probably _him_.

“All I want to say,” Laziness proclaimed, “is that I don’t blame you, Thomas. I’ll get my point across, one way or another.”

He strummed a collection of notes on the ukulele, and Thomas felt himself falling backward, deep, deep, deep into a fitful slumber. 

All Thomas could think as he fell was, _Good thing I’ve got the cloud to catch my fall_. 


	7. All the Lights Couldn't Put Out the Dark

“Zee!”

The sides rose up to Thomas’s summoning, unfazed when they found themselves in the corner of the mind that produced Thomas’s dreams, like Deceit had predicted. 

They were fazed, however, when they found Laziness alone in this corner of the mind.

A.K.A., Thomas-less.

“Where is he?” Virgil snarled, barely held back by Patton as they scoped out the scene. 

Laziness sat cross-legged on the ground, tuning his ukulele. He was noncommittal, not even acknowledging their arrival, like he didn’t even understand the gravity of the situation _he’d_ caused. His lack of care for Thomas’s well-being made Virgil want to rip him to shreds, but thankfully, Logan was there to kick things off harmoniously. 

“Greetings, Laziness.”

Laziness glanced up. “Hiya, Logic.”

“I’m going to spare you the formalities.” Logan’s voice was conversational, but there was an edge there that made the air thick with tension. “Where is Thomas?”

Calmly, Laziness got to his feet, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. Following his finger, the sides spotted a floating pink orb, a figure barely discernible inside. 

“Thomas!” Patton broke away from the group and ran to the orb, the others following suit.

The sides realized that the figure inside the sphere _was_ Thomas. He floated within the pink orb, appearing unharmed, even though his eyes were the same offputting hue of orange as before. But upon closer inspection, his brows were pinched and his nose was wrinkled, as if he was uncomfortable—this time, his sleep must not have been as serene. Next to him, a TV displayed a video of Thomas stranded at sea on a tiny boat, the screen opaque and the quality poor.

“What is this?” Virgil gazed quizzically at the screen.

“It’s named the Looking Glass,” Logan explained. He sized up the TV, the light from the screen reflected in the lenses of his glasses. “Dreams are a naturally occurring phenomena within Thomas. The Looking Glass acts as a method to see those dreams as they play out in Thomas’s mind. But even though they happen naturally, they _can_ be influenced, such as what Roman and the Duke do to give Thomas specific dreams.”

Roman frowned at the screen, watching Thomas on TV paddle across a huge ocean, his efforts to find land seemingly futile. He itched to change the bad dream Thomas was having into a good one, but too many cooks in the dream kitchen would only mess with Thomas’s head. Well, mess with it even _more_. 

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, he’s fine,” Laziness said, approaching them. “We talked. I only put him to sleep because he was pissing me off.”

“You cannot keep doing this.” Logan was irritated now, seeing through Laziness like an x-ray. “It’s not safe for Thomas’s health if he goes in and out of sleep this much. Too much sleep could lead to cardiovascular issues—”

“Maybe not the time, Teach,” Roman whispered with an eye roll.

“What’d he say that pissed you off so much?” Virgil asked. He was prodding because he knew it’d annoy Laziness, but if he was honest, he really just wanted to know what Thomas had done to get himself conked out again.

Laziness glared, his mouth tangled in an unhappy scowl. “He said exactly what I was hoping he wouldn’t. He told me to back off.”

Remus let out a cackle that was potentially not appropriate for such a serious situation—but Virgil had to hold back his own bark of laughter. 

“Our Tommy is just _full_ of surprises sometimes, isn’t he?” Remus guffawed, wiping at a tear. “Gotta love the backbone this kid is finally growing, eh?”

“Not really,” Laziness quipped. “It’s because of that _backbone_ that he won’t see reason.”

“Reason.” Logan folded his arms across his chest, skewering the lazy side with his stare. “And what, pray tell, motivates you to believe that Thomas lounging around his house all day, stuffing his face with sugar, disregarding all of his responsibilities, is _reason_?”

“You guys really have no idea what you’ve been doing to him.” Laziness shook his head, astonished. “I’ve been watching since the beginning. I know just how much stress you place on him. You and your _deadlines_ ,” he spit at Logan. “Your expectations, your dreams, your _morals_. It makes him _miserable_.”

“It’s called being an adult,” Logan replied, terse. “Thomas is not a child, he’s a thirty year old with a home to manage, a career to uphold, and health to maintain. These are all aspects of his daily routine that you’ve interfered with astronomically with your punitive game of keep-away. What do you hope to gain from doing this?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Laziness mocked, waving a hand. “Maybe it’ll make Thomas a little happy for once in his life? Maybe he’ll learn how to not care about _every single little thing_ that crosses his path? I get him caring about his bills or whatever. But you all had him having a near breakdown over a _wedding_!”

“I’m not listening to any more of this drivel.” Deceit stepped forward, towering over the shorter Laziness and glaring down at him. “This is how this is going to work: you’re going to wake up Thomas. We’re going to bring him back home. And then I’m going to snap my fingers, and you’ll never speak to Thomas ever again.”

“W-what?” Laziness balked at Deceit’s threat. “You—you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?” A sinister smile warped Deceit’s lips. “I may not know how you snuck out, but I _certainly_ know how to send you back to the Dark Side. You seem to have forgotten that _I’m_ in charge of who Thomas gets to meet. Who gets to hang out with him, who gets to know him, and who gets to be his friend.” His voice was as hard and unbreakable as a diamond. “I don’t take too kindly to sides who go behind my back and hurt Thomas the way you have. If we didn’t need you to wake Thomas up, you’d be back where you belong already.”

“I haven’t hurt Thomas!” Laziness cowered, starting to hyperventilate. “I would never hurt Thomas! I’m just—”

“Trying to ruin his life? Trying to rob him of his livelihood? Stealing his ability to make his own choices? You _took control of his body_.” Deceit was seething, not pulling any punches. “You pushed the rest of us to the side and put Thomas at risk by deciding you knew what was best for him.”

_“You do the exact same thing!”_ Laziness howled. 

Deceit hesitated, pulling his jaw taut. “I’ve done what I have to push Thomas forward. You hold him back.”

“I’m not holding him back!” Laziness yelled. “I’m trying to _keep him safe_!”

He gave one angry strum on his ukulele, the force pushing the sides back. Deceit flew into Remus’s arms, Roman stabbing his katana into the floor to keep himself standing. “If it’s a fight you want, it’s a fight you’ll get, Craziness!” Roman declared.

He darted forward, sword raised to strike, but a snippet of notes on the ukulele by Laziness’s nimble fingers halted Roman in his tracks.

“Roman?” Virgil cried.

Laziness smirked. He cleared his throat, the beginning of a song trickling from his throat.

_“How ’bout a lil’ self-care?”_

He spun Roman around, revealing Roman’s glowing, lifeless, orange eyes.

“Roman!” Patton whimpered.

“What did you do?” Remus demanded.

Laziness’s laugh was ugly. “Oh, don’t worry,” he told them. “He’s just asleep. Just as you all will be soon enough.”

“Zee—” Deceit growled. “This isn’t a joke.”

“Oh, I’ve never thought any of this was a joke, Dee.” He considered, then giggled. “Oh, well, one thing about this _has_ been funny, though,” he confessed. “And that was your face when I sang you to sleep last night to escape.”

Deceit went rigid, eyes slicing into slits. “What did you just say?” he said, low and fierce.

“You heard me.” Laziness stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Roman’s body as it stood there, still as a statue. “I told you I’d tell you how I snuck past you, and now you know. See, that’s the difference between me and you. I actually _keep_ my promises. Like how you said you _promised_ you’d let me out one day to meet Thomas? And how that day _never came_?”

‘That day never came,” Deceit responded in his most vicious hiss, “because you continued to act like a sniveling little baby who couldn’t see the big picture, no matter how many times we tried to teach you. It’s. Not. About. _You_. Or what you want. It’s about _Thomas_ , and it will always be about Thomas. What you want for Thomas isn’t good for him. If left unchecked, it could kill him. If you could have proven to me that you were ready to be there for Thomas, I would have set you free to frolic the Thomas-sphere to your slothful little heart’s content. But no. You continued to oppose me. And that’s why you’ll _never_ be good enough for Thomas.”

Laziness’s eyes blazed with orange, rage simmering like magma. “Then that’s a shame,” he murmured. “It looks like I’ll have to be good enough for Thomas. Because when I’m through with all of you, I'll be the only side left.”

More music ruptured from the ukulele. 

_“That’s exactly what we should do…”_

Logan and Patton passed out next, landing softly on the cloud floor, eyes the same blistering orange as Roman. Laziness closed in on the remaining sides, Remus swinging his Morningstar in haphazard circles as he shielded Deceit and Virgil. 

“Get any closer, and I’ll rip out your spine and ride it like a pony, twerp,” Remus warned.

Unblinking, Laziness continued his song.

_“Because just a lil’ self-care…”_

Remus fell over, snoring and cuddling up to his Morningstar like it was a teddy bear. 

“Zee, stop it, _please_ ,” Virgil croaked, backpedaling.

Laziness acted like he hadn’t heard him, playing a quick, few, furious strums, clearly targeting Virgil.

A black cape eclipsed Virgil’s vision, and he watched, horrified, as Deceit collapsed to the floor, fast asleep, having jumped in the line of fire for Virgil.

Laziness appraised Virgil, chin raised and hand hovering above the strings, prepared to deal the final blow.

“You know, I always liked you, Paranoia. We were always on the same side here,” he remarked. “Keeping Thomas in the house, far away from anything that could hurt him, physically or not. No matter the issue at hand, our solutions are the same: just hide in bed until the problem passes like a bad storm!”

Virgil’s glare pierced like broken glass, smudged eyeshadow making his defiance harsh against the pallor of his face. “I told you,” he said. “I’m not Paranoia anymore.”

Laziness shrugged. “Suit yourself. See you on the other side!”

He played one last string of notes.

_“Will do the healing for you…”_

Virgil felt himself crumpling, slipping under the undertow that was Laziness’s spell. As his head hit the cloud, he could think of one thing.

_Thomas._


	8. Runnin' Through My Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Just a quick heads up: this chapter contains some disturbing imagery that might be frightening or unsettling to some readers. I don't think anything in this chapter is worse than what is mentioned in "Dealing with Intrusive Thoughts," but I just wanted to offer a quick warning to those who are uncomfortable with anything akin to body horror. 
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read this story! This has been such a blast to write and I hope you are all enjoying! :)
> 
> \- TwistingMoonbeam

Logan picked up on a sound first.

He kept his eyes closed, dissecting the sound. Paper, fluttering most likely from an open window or a fan. He _told_ Thomas not to leave windows open when the air conditioning was on, he lived in _Florida_ for Crofters’s sake! 

Wait. He cocked his head to the side, analyzing. This wasn’t real. He was asleep. Whatever he was about to see wasn’t real; it was just going to be figments of Thomas’s unconscious thoughts conjured into mental imagery.

Nothing a little logic couldn’t fix.

Indifferent, Logan opened his eyes, only to feel like he’d been splashed with frigid water.

It was Thomas’s living room, bathed in dark blue light. The place was a pigsty, wrappers from fast food restaurants littering the floor and everything covered in a thick sheet of dust. Nothing was clean, or organized, or even _sanitary_.

Logan stepped away, disgusted. Nonsense. This wasn’t real. Surely Laziness was manipulating them somehow. Was he perhaps utilizing the dream room they were sleeping in? Using it to expose them to their worse—

His train of thought derailed, and he blinked, confused.

Logan couldn’t think. He couldn’t interpret anything in the environment around him, or its meaning to Thomas and his life. His brain felt deflated, popped like a pricked balloon.

Thomas’s face appeared before him, devoid of all emotion. He floated through the mess of his house like a ghost, seeing all of the tasks that had to be completed, but with no inkling of how to complete them. No reasoning in the way he acted, no motivation to be healthy and productive. Logan was speaking, but he’d lost the ability to comprehend his words. He had no idea what he was saying, or what to say, how to advise Thomas to dig himself out of his problems.

His judgment, _clouded_.

Deduction, _cast aside_. 

Logan struggled to keep control of his composure. _Just a dream. Just a DREAM, Logic, get it together—_

He felt his eyes burning. He wiped at them, thinking the gloom of the dream was interfering with the natural moisture of his sclera. But then his fingertips came away wet, and he felt his chest concave with a sob.

_Feelings? No, it can’t be…_

He staggered to the couch, brushing away unpaid bills and neglected to-do lists. Tears rose in his vision, to the point where he couldn’t see anymore. He tried to speak again, only for his sentence to come out garbled and incoherent. 

Logic, _useless_.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

Patton shrunk in on himself, hands over his ears.

_Just think happy thoughts. Puppies, kittens, hearts...rainbows, and tasty red balloons! Oops, wrong catchphrase..._

This felt just like when the Duke had first shown up. Everything was all... _scary_. Cerulean blue blanketed the cold, cramped room he sat in, water dripping from a loose spout somewhere onto the stone floor. There was a small window in the top right, but Patton was denied access to the outside world by three iron bars.

_Jail_ , Patton realized, pouting and scrunching up his face in an attempt not to cry. _What am I doing in jail?!_

Then he saw him: a shrouded figure in the corner, head bowed to the moonlight spilling in through the bars. Familiar brown eyes shimmered in the shadows, narrowing with suspicion as he sat up straight.

Patton’s blood suddenly became the same temperature of the jail cell. 

“Thomas…?” he whispered, shellshocked. 

This man resembled Patton’s kiddo, but everything was... _wrong_. He wore a ripped orange jumpsuit, his gaze as bruised as his upper lip and knuckles. He sported a resentful scowl, as if he hadn’t smiled in years. He reached out and carved a new tally mark into the stone wall, adding onto the growing collection of tallies around them. 

It couldn’t be possible. Thomas was a _good_ person, what was he doing in jail? He’d never even gotten a speeding ticket before! Thomas would never commit a crime, or steal, or hurt anyone, or...

Patton had always been there to assure it. Thomas was good. Thomas had morals, and always did the right thing. 

Could it be Patton...had failed him? Had Thomas lost his way down the path of good and become... _bad_?

Patton squeezed his eyes shut. “No, no, no, no, no…Thomas is good, Thomas is good!”

He heard a footfall, and when he opened his eyes, he cried out in fear.

Now Thomas had Deceit’s snake eye, Remus’s white streak, Laziness’s Hawaiian shirt, and...Virgil’s eyeshadow?

_“Hi, Patton.”_ Thomas’s voice was disjointed, sounding like four different voices all at once. _“Looks like you were wrong about me, huh?”_

When Thomas sprouted spider legs from his back, Patton let out an ear-piercing shriek. 

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

Deceit bared his teeth, wishing for the first time he actually had fangs.

He was standing on what looked like the yellow brick road, the rest of the world colored a matching shade of gold. Behind him was a building labeled “Gainesville Talent Agency,” a group of people meandering inside, as if waiting for their turn for something.

Deceit fixed his hat, preparing himself for the worst. He now understood Laziness’s ploy: manipulate the Looking Glass in the dream room to give them all nightmares and keep them busy while he (unknowingly) ruined Thomas’s life. 

Deceit wasn’t going to be nice when he woke up, that was for sure.

He couldn’t figure out what was going on in his dream until he spotted Thomas fast-walking down the sidewalk toward him. Thomas was dressed in that red leather jacket he loved so much, an envelope clutched in his hand. Deceit didn’t know how, but he knew that a copy of Thomas’s headshot was in the envelope. 

_Of course._ He looked back at the building behind him. It was an audition. There were a lot of contenders inside the lobby of the talent agency, so this audition must have been a big one.

Deceit couldn’t hold back his smirk as he watched Thomas stroll quickly. How delicious, once he aced this audition, bigger and better roles were just on the horizon! Then his career would really get to—

“Excuse me, young man?”

Deceit’s smirk dropped from his lips. An old woman wandered up to Thomas, barely holding herself up with a scratched-up cane. “Can you help me get my shopping bags into my car over there? They’re heavier than I thought…”

The conflict swirled across Thomas’s face. “I—I actually have to be somewhere right now, ma’am...” Thomas’s eyes drifted to check the time on his phone. Somehow, Deceit implicitly knew that Thomas’s scheduled time to audition was in mere minutes. 

“Oh, it’ll only take a moment,” the old woman insisted. “I only have a few bags.”

To Deceit’s horror, Thomas was actually _torn_. “Thomas,” Deceit growled. “Don’t you even _think_ about it—”

“If it’s only a couple bags...” Thomas said, following the old woman to her car.

But it ended up taking ten minutes. And by the time Thomas raced into the talent agency for his audition, his scheduled time had passed and he wasn’t permitted to try out.

As Thomas began his morose walk out of the talent agency, Deceit’s head was about to explode. He knew this was a nightmare, but _was Thomas kidding_? How could he let himself get tied up with some insignificant good deed and miss out on the chance to land a role?

Before Deceit’s eyes, the scene changed. Now Thomas was missing out on a role because he was _dogsitting_ , or _picking someone up from the airport_ , or _so and so had a really important open mic downtown, and we promised we would go to support them_. Like snippets of film reel, Deceit watched opportunity after opportunity be lost because Thomas was too much of a baby to just say _no_ , he _couldn’t_ do that random favor for a friend, _he had to put himself first._

As each image of foolish selflessness played before him, Deceit watched in horror as he slowly shed his skin, his human half sliding off of him like a coat. His human eye was aflame, pins and needles licking across his whole body.

When the freakish clipshow was finally over, Deceit’s head was left spinning, like he’d just gotten off a carnival ride. As he gained his bearings, he realized he was now back on the sidewalk, but it was nighttime. 

A stranger was passing the talent agency, hands shoved into the pockets of a tattered trench coat. The stranger glanced up at the building, and Deceit got a good look at him, realizing with dismay that this _wasn’t_ a stranger.

“Thomas?” he whispered.

This was Thomas, but it was the image of Thomas Deceit only saw in his worst moments. Thomas had permanent creases and wrinkles on his face from a deep set, miserable frown. The light was gone from his eyes, replaced with a gloom that screamed regret. He was wearing unhappiness like the out-of-style trench coat that was hanging loosely from his skinny shoulders. Deceit watched Thomas shake his head, like he was banishing bad memories.

“I remember coming here for that one audition,” Thomas murmured, his voice hinting at barely-contained fury. “And I missed it, just like all of the others. I was too busy being a _good person_.” He spit the words out like they tasted bad. “Now I’ve got nothing. All so that my moral compass would be pointed _north_.” 

“No…” Deceit backpedaled. This wasn’t possible. Deceit had worked for years to make sure Thomas had the drive and commitment to pursuing a career that made him happy! What had happened? 

Thomas walked briskly past the travel agency, crossing the street as it began to drizzle.

“Shouldn’t have done so much for _friends_ ,” he muttered, bitterly splashing through puddles. “I missed out on so many opportunities and auditions to help others, and they left me with nothing. Some friends they were…”

Deceit turned away from the sight before him, feeling sick. _Selflessness_ had gotten Thomas where he was. Doing favors for his friends, putting others before himself...it had caused him to lose everything. 

Deceit’s incompetence had caused him to lose everything.

He motioned to knead at his face, but he froze. Claws punctured the tips of his gloves, and when he ripped them off, he found that _both_ hands were covered in the same glistering scales that engulfed half of his face. 

_Thissssssss can’t be._

He felt his cheek, and spun away, the world teetering around him. Deceit finally faced the truth when he stared into his reflection in the window of the talent agency building.

His whole face, made of scales that glimmered like geodes. The scales running down his neck, encompassing his chest, his legs, his arms. His teeth, pointed into fangs. His tongue, forked in two. Both of his eyes, chartreuse and voracious as a serpent’s. 

Deceit tried to screech, but the only sound he could make was a hiss. 

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

Remus was going to be cranky when he woke up, he just knew it. 

He sighed, scratching the top of his head. “You alive, Ro? Don’t tell me I have to do mouth-to-mouth on my own brother. That’s messed up, even for me.”

Roman groaned, rubbing his own head as he rose to stand beside his brother. “So, what, we’re asleep?” he grumbled. “Pretty lame in the membrane.”

“Blame the Annoying Orange. He had a little tantrum and now we’re all counting sheep.” Remus glanced around, furrowing his brows. “So what unseen horrors does he have waiting for us?”

“You think he’s giving us all nightmares?” Roman frowned. “I thought you only knew how to do that.”

“It’s not my specialty. Just like how you can let your goody-goody creativity leak into Thomas’s dreams, I can send my inspiration Thomas’s way if he’s asleep, and it will manifest as a nightmare. Don’t know why, though, since my bursts of inspiration are _fabulous_.”

“You mean the _intrusive thoughts_ you make Thomas think at random points during a day?” Roman laughed. “Sure, bro, let’s call them ‘bursts of inspiration.’”

“Oh, like your inspiration is so high and mighty,” Remus snorted. “When was the last time you suggested something _not_ boring to Thomas?”

“You’re just still mad Thomas turned down your ‘jump out of a moving car’ suggestion again.”

“Seriously, I’ve been throwing that out there for years! When is he gonna at least give it a try?”

The two discovered that they were in some sort of utility closet. Opening the door to peek outside revealed a large office, one half of it red, the other half green. The bland sound of typing filled the air, the office occupied by even more bland workers. Dozens of cubicles lined up in rows before them, but the person occupying one in the center caught their attention.

“Is that...Thomas?” Roman asked, grimacing. 

“What in the name of H. P. Lovecraft is he doing _here_?” Remus answered, grossed out for the first time that Roman had ever seen.

They watched Thomas stand up from his computer, adjusting his glasses as they slipped down his nose. The habit reminded them of Logan, but they could tell that this Thomas was different. His eyes were dull, crow’s feet marking the sides of his face. His clothes were washed out and plain, instead of Thomas’s usual colorful, unique outfits. When he picked up his satchel and began leaving the office, his stride was hunched over and slow, like an exhausted turtle.

“G’night, everyone,” Thomas mumbled.

“G’night, Mr. Sanders,” the other office workers replied in unison, not looking up from their computers.

Roman was aghast. _Mr. Sanders?_

As Thomas rounded a corner, an employee asked him, “Hey, Sanders, are you ever gonna make any more of those short videos? Those were funny, man!”

Thomas heaved a sigh. “No, I don’t make those anymore,” he said, dejected. “I just don’t have the passion for it.”

Roman stumbled backwards into his brother, hand clutching his chest like he’d gotten hit. His mouth was agape, horror blooming in him.

_Don’t have the passion for it?!_

“Please tell me you heard that,” Roman hissed.

“ _Heard_ it? I’m over here trying not to _barf_ ,” Remus answered, looking green around the gills. “ _No passion_? Dis- _gusting_.”

“Oh, c’mon, Sanders, it’s been years!” the coworker egged him on. “Surely you’ve got _one_ idea for a video?”

Thomas shook his head, lip curling into a pout. “I...I can’t remember the last time I had a creative thought,” he confessed. “This spout’s been empty for as long as I can remember. I guess I just wasn’t cut out for the life of a content creator.”

As Thomas left the office, Roman muttered, “I think I’m gonna faint.”

“Keep it together, bro,” Remus replied, rolling his eyes. “This is just a dream, remember? A _bad_ dream,” he added, glaring up at the ceiling. “Hear that, ya little brat? I’ve watched episodes of Teletubbies scarier than this so-called ‘nightmare.’ If you’re gonna mess with dreams, at least make them frightening! Show me Thomas ripping his teeth out and packing them up like Tic-Tacs! That’s disturbing!”

“Um, _no_ , please don’t show us that!” Roman called, flinching. 

“Or show us Thomas standing at the top of the Empire State Building and contemplating how he’s one step away from plummeting to his death!”

“ _Nooo_ thank you, I’m thoroughly frightened!”

“Give us some blood and guts, in the _least_.” 

“We’re good! Very, _very_ disturbed, thank you.”

There was a beat, and then Remus _tsk_ ed, hands on his hips. “Honestly, never send Lazy Susan up there to do the Dark Side of Creativity’s job.” 

The world swooped around them, and they were suddenly in an abyss, the only light coming from a single spotlight shining down on them. Remus and Roman were facing each other, exchanging glances that were equally confused, before a pillar shot out of the ground and separated them.

“Remus!” Roman cried. He reached down for his katana, but when he glanced back up, ready to strike, he went slack with shock, the sword clattering to the ground from his limp hands.

The pillar was actually a mirror, wide and tall enough to showcase Roman’s entire reflection. But while the slightest loose strand of hair or speck of dust on his uniform would normally have sent him over the edge, his current reflection was worse than anything he could have imagined.

In his reflection, he was _Remus_.

His red and white color scheme was gone, replaced with his brother’s ghoulish green and black outfit. The mania in his eyes was pronounced by the sickly purple eyeshadow Remus always wore, his skin pallid against the bone-white streak in his hair. With quivering hands, Roman touched the mustache on his face, reaffirming that what he was seeing in the mirror was real.

Roman struggled to control his breathing. Terrifying visions were flashing behind his eyelids, living nightmares that he couldn’t escape, no matter how tightly he squeezed his eyes shut. He’d learned to respect, even value Remus’s creative perspective, but this was too much.

On the other side of the pillar, Remus was blinking owlishly at his own reflection, not comprehending. In the mirror, he saw that he was... _Roman_. His beautiful Shakespearean costume had been swapped for Roman’s cookie-cutter prince get-up, the shoulderpads twinkling in the glass like cold stars. Gone was his makeup, his white streak, his mustache. Everything that made Remus _Remus_ had been scrubbed away, like grime on a dinner plate.

Remus tried to come up with an intrusive thought, but found he could only think of goody-goody creative ideas, like he was still a ten-year-old boy in elementary school. Thoughts that were safe, cuddly... _boring_. Not that he didn’t think Roman was talented—but they weren’t _his_ ideas. The kinds of thoughts that excited him, pushed the boundary, and challenged everyone’s perceptions of _creativity_. 

They’d both lost themselves.

Then, on each side of the mirror, they watched their reflection fuse into something else. 

Something _more_.

Something forbidden.

They both charged forward, wielding their weapons. With all of their might, katana and Morningstar crashed into the mirror, but the mirror refused to shatter. No matter how many attempts they made, their reflections remained the same, showing them as what they feared most. 

As they tried again and again, the brothers’ yells echoed off of the fun house mirror and vanished into the abyss.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

_In for four._

_Hold for seven._

_Out for eight._

Virgil didn’t dare peek through his eyelids, too focused on not hurling. He felt like he’d just risen up somewhere, only three times worse. He just wanted everything to be still for a minute while he regained his grasp on reality.

Then he heard footsteps and familiar humming, forcing his eyes open.

The world was awash in purple, empty of any living soul except for Thomas, who was walking down the street. His headphones were on, music blaring as Thomas absently typed on his cell phone. Virgil was behind him, lurking, eyes darting left and right in search of potential danger.

Virgil collected his wits, shaking himself out of his reverie. He opened his mouth to warn Thomas not to be so easygoing— _it’s getting dark, you have to get home, why are you walking, driving would have been safer, go faster, pay attention to your surroundings_ —but his almost short circuited when no sound emerged from his mouth.

He tried again, but he still couldn’t talk. Fear crawled up his skin like centipedes. Why couldn’t he speak? What was going on? 

But if Thomas couldn’t hear him…

Virgil whipped his head to the side so hard, his neck let out an unnatural _crack_. His heart started pumping faster, beads of sweat slipping down his forehead. He watched Thomas like a hawk, everything all of the sudden seeming too bright and too loud.

Thomas, hopelessly unaware, laughed at a tik tok as he passed a dark alley. But then a hand reached out from the dark and snatched Thomas, pulling him into the alley.

_NO. NONONONONONONONONONONO—_

Virgil went to run, but he slammed into an invisible glass wall, separating him from Thomas. He smashed his fists against the wall, trying to scream Thomas’s name, but he was stuck _and_ silent.

Finally, Virgil felt the rumble of his Tempest Tongue deep in his throat. Near-hysterical, he thrashed his fists against the wall, the glass finally fracturing around him. Running through the glass shards that rained down on him, Virgil rounded the corner of the alley.

His heart stopped.

Thomas lay in a crumpled heap on the ground, hidden in a pile of dead leaves next to a dumpster. Virgil was at his side a second later, his shouts coming out as gasps as he inspected Thomas.

Thomas had a black eye, a swollen lip, and cuts along his face. Virgil lightly slapped his cheek, and Thomas moaned.

_“This is your fault, you know.”_

A figure stood in the entrance to the alley. He came into the light, and Virgil was suddenly looking at...himself? No, the _old_ him, black hoodie and all. Dark Side Virgil. _Paranoia._

_“I would have scared some sense into him,”_ the old Virgil said, smirking down at the unconscious Thomas. _“I wouldn’t have let this happen, even though he probably deserves it, the gullible kid.”_

Thomas most certainly did _not_ deserve to get beaten up and left for dead in an alley. Virgil was livid, angling his body to block Thomas from the old Virgil’s view.

_“Look what happens when we go soft,”_ the old Virgil sneered, hands in the pocket of his hoodie. _“Thomas pays for it. You should have done a better job. You should have protected him better.”_

“Yeah, Virge,” Thomas suddenly croaked, looking up at Virgil with painstricken eyes. “Why didn’t you protect me better?”

Anxiety coursed through him like venom. He was drowning in it, the purple of the world around him bleeding into black, consuming him as he plunged into pure panic.

_Why didn’t you protect me better?_

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

In his dreams, Thomas was adrift at sea. 

Land was nowhere in sight. Miles of brilliant blue stretched out as far as he could see, the sun a pinprick of light above him. He was surrounded by heat, the paddle loose in his slippery hands. He was rowing to safety...wherever safety was.

Dreams, recently, had been nice for Thomas. But this one was nightmarish, dropping him smack in the middle of a horrible, hopeless situation with no solution in mind. No matter how fast he rowed, he wasn’t going anywhere. No matter how much he screamed, no one could hear him.

He lay on his back, face up to the neverending sky. Maybe he should just give up and let himself bake in this relentless sun. Or tumble over the edge of the raft and crash into the ocean, letting the tide take him where it wished. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe…

_Thomas._

He shot up, head cocked in the direction of the call. It was someone he knew, beckoning him. The voice of someone important to him.

“Virge?”

Why did Virgil sound so...scared? 

Deep in his chest, Thomas felt his heart nosedive into his stomach. His breaths left his mouth in hurried hiccups, his throat closing up. This distress wasn’t his. This was Virgil’s distress, somewhere, somehow. Why was Virgil distressed?

Then he felt it: six strands that he was connected to, all panicked or upset. His six sides, all suffering, somewhere, somehow. Virgil, Patton, Roman, Logan, Remus, and Deceit, in more pain than Thomas had ever thought possible.

Dream or no dream, he had to help them. They’d helped him countless times; he had to return the favor.

He brought his hands to his heart, honing in on his sides, on their anguish. No more dreams, no more sleeping. 

It was time to wake the hell up. 


	9. (Shine) Step Into the Light

Thomas choked, suddenly wide awake.

For a moment, all he saw was pink before it all splintered around him and his body hit the floor. Blinking and breathing heavily, he beamed as the revelation dawned on him: he’d woken himself up from Laziness’s spell all on his own! Sitting up and glancing around, he found he was still in the weirdo dream room, on the floor next to the TV. While Laziness was nowhere in sight, there was _something_ going on.

Thomas got to his feet, advancing slowly. Scattered across the floor were large spheres of wind, each one a different color. Each sphere levitated slightly above the ground, solid in color, and slightly translucent. As Thomas approached the red one, he gently examined it, only to jump back with a yelp upon peeking inside.

Roman floated inside the sphere, wind ruffling his hair. He looked pained, and he let out a yell of fear, absently slashing at something with his invisible katana. Even through the sphere, Thomas could tell Roman’s eyes were empty and orange.

Thomas, perturbed, located the rest of his sides, who were all trapped within their respective spheres, and all seemed to be in some sort of distress.

_Orange is quickly becoming my least favorite color._

“They’re asleep,” Thomas realized, wincing. “And they are _not_ having sweet dreams.”

That’s what he had sensed in his own dream? All of his sides, locked away in some nightmare-induced trance?

Well, _almost_ all of them.

“What are you doing up?”

Thomas stopped. Laziness was a few feet behind him, fingers hovering above his ukulele strings in an unspoken threat. He watched Thomas, head cocked to the side, as if curious what Thomas’s next move was going to be.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Thomas said. “Had a lot on my mind.” He willed himself to stay strong and put up a brave front, despite how rattled he was to see his lazy side again. 

“You woke up on your own?” Laziness furrowed his brow, baffled. “That’s a new one. I didn’t know you could do that.”

 _Neither did I._ “What are you doing to them?” Thomas demanded, gesturing to the rest of his sides. 

Laziness walked forward and past Thomas, his footfalls soundless on the cloud. He was wistful as he gazed at all of the sides in their bubbles, nonchalant to the pain they were all in. “Isn’t it obvious?” he chuckled humorlessly. “They’re asleep.”

“Um, yeah, I got that, thanks. But what are you _doing_ to them?”

Laziness paused, hand drifting to rest on the yellow bubble Deceit was in. “You have a lot of free time when you’re a Dark Side, y’know,” he said softly. “Lots of freedom to sneak away and explore different parts of your mind. In the beginning, when I got too sick of sitting around and waiting for you to have a lazy Sunday, I would come here and watch you dream.” His smile was nostalgic. “I felt such a connection to your dreams. They were crazy and colorful and whimsical. But most importantly, they were my window into what made you _you_. Watching you dream was my only connection to you, Thomas. So, after years upon years of finding solace here, I have a good understanding of how all of this works.”

Even asleep, Roman’s snark was rising to the surface within Thomas. “Good for you.”

“A.K.A., I’ve learned how to manipulate dreams, just like your creative sides. My uke here puts people to sleep, and that thingie”—he threw a thumb over his shoulder at the TV in the center of the room—“can affect your dreams. Ya don’t need Logan to do the math here, Thomas.”

Thomas took a small step back. “They’re trapped?” Try as he might, he couldn’t keep the fear from creeping into his voice.

“They’re not _trapped_ ,” Laziness crowed with a smirk. “They’re... _unavailable_.”

Thomas scowled. “I’m not messing around anymore, Laziness. Let them go!”

Laziness frowned, as he didn’t comprehend Thomas’s anger. “What is your _problem_? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Why would you think I wanted this? You kidnapped me and now you’re torturing my other sides!” Thomas was unyielding: he wouldn’t let Laziness slide for what he had done.

“But you’re the one who called _me_. Why is this suddenly my fault?”

Thomas did a double take. “I _what_?”

Laziness stomped closer, finger in Thomas’s face. “Two nights ago! You were working like a dog, and you thought, _I want a day off._ But you weren’t going to give yourself a day off! You were going to keep working yourself to death and not give yourself what you needed! That’s why I’m here, why I’ve done all of this! Because I _heard_ you, Thomas. You set me _free_!”

Thomas blanched. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m serious, alright. Why do you think I went through all of the trouble of using my spell on Ethan and sneaking by him? Escaping the Dark Side and breaking out of your head to manifest in front of you like this? I did it for _you_. Because you needed my help!”

“I...I didn’t need…” Thomas turned away, in disbelief. This couldn’t have been his fault. _He_ caused all of this? Just because he had one fleeting thought about wanting a _day off_?

“Face it, Thomas,” Laziness went on, accusing tone severing deep. “My job as a side is to help you, in whatever way I see fit. You were desperate for a break. I could _feel it_. So I did exactly what you wanted and gave you a break. I did my job.” His next words were scalding. “You just don’t like what me doing my job says about _you_.”

Thomas flinched. This was becoming too personal. “I don’t care about any of that anymore,” he said doggedly. “You win, I got my break. Now I want all of us to go home.”

“You mean all of _you_.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh, so now you’d be willing to accept me as one of your sides? I’d be welcome to your pity parties as you continue to freak out and stress over every little thing? I’ll just go back to the Dark Side and you’ll go back to overworking yourself?” Laziness raised his head, his scowl deep and vengeful. “No way. I’m not ever going back. I’m gonna be a part of your life, whether you like it or not.”

“Laziness—” 

“Thomas.” Laziness’s voice made Thomas’s heart jackhammer against his ribcage. “I think it’s time you went back to bed.”

Laziness’s fingers nimbly readied themselves above the strings. And just like that, something inside of Thomas snapped. Feeling like a volcano on the verge of eruption, he blurted, _“No!”_

Laziness jerked in surprise.

“I’m not playing this game with you anymore.” Thomas fixed his posture, staring right into his lazy side’s brown eyes— _his_ eyes. “This is my mind, and I decide what happens here. And I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

A fragment of light burst in front of him, like a supernova. It circled Thomas’s hands, whizzing until it fully took form: a shiny pink ukulele with gold trimming, and perfectly balanced, like his real one back home. He adjusted the strap over his head, all of his fear and weakness thawing as he became steadfast and sure of himself.

“Thomas,” Laziness gasped, backing away. “What—what do you think you’re doing?”

“Exactly what I said. This is my mind.” Thomas cracked his knuckles, smiling. “And I’ve decided it’s time for a wake up call.”

Before Laziness could do anything, Thomas strummed one simple note on his ukulele, eyes closed in concentration. 

There was a _pop_ behind him, followed by a thud and the indignant shout of, “Can’t a guy get a warning first so that he can prepare his princely landing?”

“Roman!” Thomas cried in delight.

Roman staggered to his feet, blinking at the two of them and seeing stars. “Thomas?” He shook off the stupor and drew his sword, aiming it at Laziness. “You!”

Laziness didn’t pay attention to Roman, gawking at Thomas. 

“Thomas, I’m going to need you to take three steps to the left,” Roman instructed, dead serious. “Because I need a running start before I charge this lethargic lowlife.”

“I’m gonna ask you to wait on that one,” Thomas replied, holding up his ukulele. “Let’s wake the others up first.”

A song was blossoming in his head, unfurling like a comforting quilt. He plucked a few more strings, his hum low in his throat, and then Patton’s bubble burst. Patton plopped to the floor, rubbing his head.

“Thomas, think about what you’re doing,” Laziness insisted, frantic. “Think about what you’re giving up. If you push me away—if you send me back—you’ll never get to have self-care!”

Thomas’s next string of notes popped Logan’s bubble, the logical side taking a moment to reorient himself as he fixed his glasses and assessed the situation.

“I appreciate the concern,” Thomas said, wiping his fingers on his sleeve for a second as they stung from overuse. “Really, I do. You’re a part of me. I know you don’t really want to hurt me.”

A short, cheerful chord in the song freed Virgil, who ripped his hood off his head once he was on the ground. His eyes zeroed in on Thomas, examining him from afar for potential peril.

“And I get that I was the one who summoned you.” Thomas frowned as guilt singed his insides. “When I thought what I did, I didn’t realize someone was actually _listening_.”

The notes reached a crescendo as Remus was released. He made the motions of making a snow angel as he lay on the floor, laughing dementedly. Deceit was last, landing on the floor in a heap as he quickly adjusted his cloak and hat.

“Of course I was listening!” Laziness ran his hands through his hair, frustration giving way to fear as he said, “All I _do_ is listen to you! Unlike _them_. All they do is push you and stress you out. Who is gonna take care of you?”

“Easy,” Thomas said. His expression was smoldering. “Me.”

He pooled his energy, focusing on Laziness as his song picked up in speed. His eyes narrowed, his sides behind him as he listened to the song in his head, following it blindly. 

Laziness became ashen as he swayed. He put his ukulele down, arms extended outward. “Thomas, please. Don’t send me away. I know what I did was wrong. I shouldn’t have forced you or tricked you. I thought I was helping!”

Thomas took a deep breath. “I’m not sending you away,” he said earnestly. “I just think you need to chill.”

He finished his song with a quick flourish, his hands raw and red.

And his lazy side collapsed gently to the floor, curled up in a ball as he slept soundly. 


	10. So Bright Sometimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! So, how about that new Sanders Sides episode, huh? It throws a bit of a wrench into this story, of course, but I'm going to continue this story as planned, even if it clashes with the events of the new episode a bit.
> 
> I hope everyone liked the new episode as much as I did and I hope you continue to enjoy this story! Thank you for reading! :)
> 
> \- TwistingMoonbeam

“It’s poetic, really,” Remus remarked with a smirk. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Tommy.”

Thomas and his six sides stood in a circle above Laziness, who dozed softly, sucking his thumb. 

“I didn’t either,” Thomas confessed. “I guess I just knew what to do, when push came to shove.” He gauged the sides, who all seemed just as shaken up as he did. “You guys okay?”

Patton’s smile was forced. “Of course, kiddo! Just as long as _you’re_ okay.”

“That’s just it.” Thomas examined the pink ukulele hanging from the strap around his neck, the majesty of the huge room they were in, white and quiet as a wintry forest. The reality of what he had just endured hit him like a smack upside the head. “I...I don’t think I _am_ okay,” he went on, frowning. “I mean, I can’t be okay if _that_ all just happened. If that’s how _he_ feels.”

“He’s supposed to feel that way,” Deceit explained, hands on his hips. “It’s his function, Thomas. He’ll always think you’re overworking yourself or that you need more breaks. It’s what he’s wired to care about.”

“But if he’s always supposed to feel that way all the time, then why did he decide to show up _now_?” Thomas asked.

A grunt from below made everyone tense up. Laziness cringed in his sleep, rolling over as he whimpered. The TV crackled with electricity, as if booting up after years of neglect.

“The Looking Glass,” Roman realized.

“That’s what that thing is called?” Thomas questioned, mystified. “What does it do?”

“It allows a visual representation of your dreams,” Logan explained. “A ‘peek behind the curtain,’ so to speak.”

Shooting a worried glance down at Laziness, Thomas approached the Looking Glass as its surface rippled. The static faded, and an image was clear as crystal on the screen. And the image was of _him_.

“What the heck?” Thomas murmured.

He was captivated. It was a video of him, standing in front of the whiteboard in the office. He clutched a black marker, drawing arrows and scrawling dates as he planned out a schedule for the month. Stepping back from his work, Thomas wiped his face. “Guess I’m not getting any sleep this month,” he snorted.

Deceit observed from the corner, filing his nails. “Sleep is for the weak,” he said, not looking up from his manicure. “You can sleep when you’re dead.”

“Jeez, Ethan,” Thomas said, jaw dropped. “Zero-to-sixty much?”

Deceit smiled patiently. “You’ll thank me when you’re one of the most successful YouTubers on the platform. You won’t achieve that unless you collab, attend conventions, and post on social media at a consistent rate.” He blew on his nails. “And don’t forget the callback.”

The screen flashed, now showing Thomas in his living room, curled up on the couch with a blanket draped over his head. He worked vigorously on his laptop, his eyes glossy and movements becoming slower as he clicked and typed, sending emails and proofreading scripts. “Isn’t it bedtime?” he complained.

Logan rose up into the living room, expression cool and undeterred. He produced a to-do list from his shirt pocket, showcasing it to Thomas like it was evidence in a trial. “Thomas, in order to remain on schedule for your next video, we must accomplish ten percent more in terms of productivity. It’s the last item on your list for today. So, please hurry, so that I can begin work on the list for tomorrow.”

As he sunk out, Thomas sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and continued to edit.

“Oh.”

In real time, Logan’s brows were furrowed, considering the screen with confusion. For once, he seemed to be at a loss for words. 

“Logan?” Thomas prodded.

“I...I had never noticed how tired you were, Thomas.” Logan grasped at his tie, embarrassed. “ _I_ didn’t notice, and I’m supposed to notice everything. I had been so focused on your productivity that I missed your exhausted physical and mental state.”

On the screen, a new scene began: Thomas playing a video game in the living room in the middle of the day. As he excitedly smashed on the buttons of his controller, Patton rose up, drawling, “Oh, _Thooommaaass_! Do you know what today is?”

Thomas thought for a moment, still attentive to his game. “Hi, Patton! Uhh...Thursday?”

“You got that right, kiddo! And that means…?”

He thought some more. Then it hit him, and he bristled. “Pat, don’t tell me you’re talking about the yard sale.”

“Yes, I’m talking about the yard sale! You told Dom you would stop by to help!”

“I said I’d _maybe_ stop by to help. He already told me he didn’t need me!”

“But the right thing to do would be to at least offer! It would be wrong to assume they don’t need you. The yard sale is to raise money for Dom’s car because of that fender bender, remember? Any little bit of help would go a long way!”

“Patton—”

A shadow towered over him as Virgil’s voice boomed in his ears. “What if they’re expecting you?” He leered in the corner, arms crossed over his chest. “What if they’re _depending_ on you? If you don’t show, you could ruin the whole yard sale. You could jeopardize Dom’s chances at getting enough money to fix his headlight. Not cool, Thomas.”

Thomas wanted to scream into a pillow. But instead he shot Dom a text saying he was on his way and grabbed his car keys, his mouth in a flat, unhappy line.

In reality, Virgil and Patton exchanged a shameful look. 

The screen changed again to display Thomas in the shower. From the waist up, they watched him wash his hair and whistle to himself without a care in the world, reaching out absently for the bar of soap. Before he could touch it, a voice cleaved through the steam of the shower: “Thomas! I just got the _greatest_ idea for a video!”

Thomas jumped, nearly sliding in the shower. “Roman!” He covered himself, glowering at the creative side, who was peeking in from the other side of the shower curtain. “Is this _really_ the time?” he asked, exasperated.

“Thomas, you know you have your best lightbulb moments in the shower! You should have been expecting me to drop in!” Roman chuckled, smoothing back his hair. “Anyway, listen up: you and Joan hit the streets and do a quiz show where contestants have to—stay with me here—answer questions about Broadway trivia! If they get it right, you have to sing a song of their choice, and if they get it wrong, they get a consolation prize of some of your autographed merch! It’s a win-win!”

Thomas smiled slightly, scratching the back of his head. “I think that’s a great idea, Roman. I’ll definitely add that to the list of ideas at the office—”

“Ooh! And don’t forget that new original song I came up with!” Roman beamed as he gripped the shower curtain. “I’m almost done with the harmonies for that one! We can start recording it A to the SAP!”

“That’s awesome, Ro. That one’s already on the list, so—”

“And, and, and! That new Instagram short we talked about! We should film it tomorrow! The park would be perfect. Probably around sundown. And remember to film it from your left, you know that’s my—I mean, _your_ good side.”

“Yup, sounds good.” Thomas looked like he was trying to mask his irritation at being interrupted. “Um, so if there’s nothing else, can I, uh…” He gestured around to the shower.

“Oh! Yes, of course. Scrub-a-dub-dub, Thomas!” As Roman sunk out, he added, “Don’t forget to wash behind the ears!”

Thomas was left alone, displeased. The water was turning cold, so he knew he had to rush the rest of his “relaxing” shower. “Hopefully those are all of my bursts of inspiration for the day,” he mused as he got back to showering.

He was so absorbed in lathering up the soap that he didn’t notice the deranged, purple-rimmed eyes that popped up from the other side of the rod holding up the shower curtain.

“Tide Pod taste test!”

The soap whooshed out of Thomas’s hands.

_“Remus!”_

In real time, Remus itched the corner of his nose, sheepish. “What?” he defended to the others. “He gets his best ideas in the shower!”

Everything on screen expanded to reveal Laziness sitting in front of the Looking Glass. He lay on his back, knees crossed and arms extended back to support his head as he lounged, laughing at something on the screen next to him. The screen showed Thomas performing on Broadway, bowing as roses were thrown to him onstage.

“You always dream about this! Third time this week,” Laziness said to the screen, and Thomas in real time was floored by the adoration that sparkled in his voice. “But you’ll get there one day, buddy. Until then, keep dreaming.”

Suddenly, the screen Laziness was watching dissolved to black. He jolted, then frowned. “Hey, what gives? He was in the middle of a good dream there!”

He cocked his head to the side, listening as voices boomed in from the outside world: it was the sides, all needling Thomas in some way about his responsibilities.

Laziness winced as Logan’s voice echoed from above. “Here we go again,” he complained to no one as he heard Logan berate Thomas for sleeping in this morning. “He had a long shoot yesterday, give him a break.”

He received no response. He continued to listen, pinching the strings on his ukulele, one at a time. He clicked his tongue and stood up, bouncing slightly on the cloud floor as he landed.

“This is dumb,” he said aloud, glaring upwards. “How can you all not see how overwhelmed he is? The guy is _human_ , not a well-oiled machine.”

Laziness glanced back at the Looking Glass. Nodding to himself, he sunk out of the dream room, and rose up into the Dark Side kitchen. Thomas only recognized it from his own journey to the Dark Side last week, and shuddered upon recalling how decrepit and spooky it was. 

Laziness crossed his arms, swinging his ukulele to hang from its strap behind his back. “Ethan.”

Deceit closed the refrigerator door, a glass of red wine held daintily in his hand. “Zee,” he returned, suave as ever. “Can I help you with something?”

“I wanna talk about Thomas’s schedule. He’s been booked for weeks now without a day off, and it’s starting to become too much.”

“Oh?” Deceit sipped from his wine. “So, you think he should cancel his plan to shoot a new video this weekend? Even though it’s one he’s had in his planner for a month? The one he’s been looking forward to for _weeks_ now?”

“Uh...w-well, no,” Laziness stammered, self-assurance damaged. “I don’t want him to miss out on anything important.”

“So, you want him to laze about instead of editing? That would push his production schedule back exponentially. He’d certainly be losing sleep over _that_.”

“Look, I know things are a whirlwind right now between work and everything. I know he’s doing well financially and professionally. But…” Laziness’s hand drifted over his heart, and he cringed. “I can see how stressed out he is. No, I don’t just see it, I—I _feel_ it,” he enunciated, stricken. “He’s running on fumes. We have to do something before it’s too late.”

“Then what’s your solution?” Deceit practically flung the question at him like a grenade. “I’d like to hear it from your mouth, Zee. What do _you_ think will help Thomas?”

Laziness went straight as a pole. His fingernails dug into his sides as he hesitated to reply. “I want to meet him,” he said quietly. “I want to tell him myself that I want him to slow down.”

Deceit cranked his head toward Laziness immediately. If he had been an actual snake, his defense mechanism would have been employed: fangs out, venom dripping like raindrops in preparation to strike. “Zee,” he said carefully. “We’ve talked about this a _multitude_ of times. You know my answer.”

“He _needs_ me.” Laziness fingers unflexed from his hips and wound into fists. “You feel it when Thomas needs to lie. _I_ feel it when he needs to relax. You can’t keep me from him when he needs me!”

Deceit turned his body toward Laziness, taking slow steps. His shoes clacked against the tile floor of the kitchen, like slow ticks on a clock. When Deceit was close enough, he reached out to put a hand on Laziness’s shoulder, holding him in place. “What Thomas needs,” he said lowly, “is to remain focused on his career and his responsibilities. Stopping to relax will trip him up. He’ll miss out on opportunities, mess up something with his family and friends. We can’t let him lose steam now.”

“But…” Laziness struggled to speak. “He wouldn’t be _losing steam_. He’d just be taking a day for himself. For his mental health. Just a day to not have to be up at seven a.m. or freak out about every little thing he eats. A day just for _Thomas_.”

“Every day is _already_ for Thomas.” Deceit chucked, waving a hand. “He’s living his dream. His job is to create content for various platforms and to entertain viewers of all different ages, genders, and races. Taking a break will just intrude upon his professional potential. There’s no time for a break, Zee.”

Laziness stepped away, arms huddled against his chest. “So there’s no time for me,” he accused.

Deceit sighed, massaging his temples. “Laziness,” he said, sounding frustrated. “Take a page from your own book and _relax_ , okay? Everything with Thomas is fine. He’s doing so well. He doesn’t need you ruining all that he’s worked so hard for because you think he needs a day to unwind.” 

Laziness recoiled, like he’d been slapped. He blinked, processing Deceit’s words, before spinning around to face the doorway out of the kitchen. “I don’t care what you think,” he muttered. “Thomas needs my help, and I’m going to be there for him. It’s my job.”

He sunk out, ignoring whatever Deceit had started to say.

Once back in the dream room, he stumbled toward the Looking Glass, trying not to hiccup as he held back tears. “What do I do?” he shouted, even though he was alone. “Thomas needs my help. But he doesn’t know I exist. I wanna talk to him, really get him to understand my point here, but he can’t even see me.”

Hours passed as he puzzled over his next move. “I want to trust Ethan,” he mumbled, tracing circles into the floor as he sat, knees pulled to his chest. “He knows what he’s doing. He knows what’s best for Thomas. But...so do _I_. For specific stuff, I know what’s best, anyway. I know Thomas is desperate for a break from all of this stress. But I don’t know what to do to help him.”

Laziness squeezed his eyes shut, feeling like he was being pushed and pulled from all angles, like wet clay being molded into pottery. _What to do what to do what to do…_ But then a new voice echoed from above, instantly breaking him out of his sorrow. One he knew very well.

_I just want a day off. That’s all. Just a day to sleep in, relax in bed, and watch and eat whatever I want whenever I want. No thinking about getting behind on work, or what the snacks are doing to my body, or feeling panicked about creating something right then and there. Just some down time. A little vacay. Is that too much to ask?_

“Thomas,” Laziness croaked.

Thomas was calling for him. _Him._ This had never happened before. Normally he was beckoning for Logic, or one of the Creativities, or Morality. Never had Thomas specifically called out for his lazy side. Never had Thomas asked for his help.

And yet, Laziness seemed to know what to do.

“I don’t care what Ethan says,” Laziness growled, standing as he readied his ukulele. “I don’t care what _anyone_ says. I am going to help Thomas. He needs me. And I’m gonna be there for him, no matter what it takes.”

The screen showed Laziness going to Deceit later that night while Deceit was working in his room and singing him under his control. The sides and Thomas, in real time, watched as Laziness manipulated Deceit to snap his fingers, therefore making Laziness visible to Thomas. 

“I’m sorry,” Laziness told the unconscious Deceit as he put him into bed, closing Deceit’s eyes to hide the orange color that was haunting him. “But I have to do what I feel is necessary. I have to help Thomas. I hope you’ll understand.”

The screen cut out as Laziness rose up into the bedroom to greet Thomas.

In real time, Thomas flinched, turning away from the Looking Glass. This was _insane_. His lazy side had defied Deceit and cast his spell all in an effort to give Thomas a day off. All of this work, all of this drama, just to give Thomas a few hours of reprieve. 

And Thomas, oddly, appreciated it.

He didn’t approve of what Laziness had done. He didn’t approve of Laziness’s tactics. But he couldn’t help but see some similarities between what Deceit and Remus had done before Thomas had fully accepted them and what Laziness had done: sneaking onto the scene, utilizing some underhanded methods to force themselves into Thomas’s life. The more he thought about it, the more he thought that what Laziness had done made him more of a Dark Side than anyone realized.

In Thomas’s peripherals, Deceit pivoted away from the Looking Glass, hand clasped over his mouth. While they were all shocked, Deceit, especially, seemed affected by what they’d just witnessed in the Looking Glass.

“This is what he is dreaming about.” Logan’s voice was a firework in the silence. “Memories.”

“I...I never realized how tough we’ve been on Thomas lately,” Patton said. “Thomas, Laziness told us you had called out to him. That you needed his help. Do you think we’ve been pushing you too hard?”

Thomas suddenly found that all of his sides were looking at him, awaiting his answer. He swallowed, sweat filling his palms. “Well, um…”

Virgil noticed Thomas’s change in behavior, taking a step forward. His eyes narrowed, concentrating on how Thomas wiped his hands on his pajama pants, avoiding their gazes. “Thomas, you’re anxious.” He softened. “What’s the deal, kid?”

Thomas pursed his lips, pondering. He peeked at Laziness, who was still fast asleep on the ground behind them, curled into a ball. 

_That’s why I’m here, why I’ve done all of this! Because I heard you, Thomas. You set me free!_

“Even if it wasn’t on purpose,” Thomas murmured, “I _did_ call out to him. Even if it just was some unconscious, random thought I had when I wasn’t paying attention, it’s true. I wanted a break.” He sighed, addressing his sides. “Look, guys. You all know how much I love my life. You all help me be as successful and productive as possible. Lo, where would I be without your to-do lists?”

“Well, you would still be in your home, Thomas,” Logan replied, confused. “You would just be more unorganized and disheveled.”

“No, that’s not—oh, well, okay,” Thomas began, chuckling to himself. _Phrasing, Thomas._ “Yes, you’re right, I’d be unorganized and disheveled. But sometimes I feel that I can be that way when I’ve got _too much_ to do, as well. Productivity is important, but it can all be a little too much.”

Logan blinked, nodding slowly.

“And Roman and Remus!” Thomas went on. “You know I’d be nothing without all of your creativity. You’re literally my muses, and I appreciate all of your ideas so much. But sometimes you guys bombard me with ideas at inopportune moments, and it can be difficult to carry on with my day if I’m being interrupted all of the time.”

Remus and Roman exchanged a remorseful glance.

“Pat,” Thomas said, and his moral side shrunk back. “Look, we’ve had this talk before. I appreciate the standard you hold me at for doing the right thing. I want to always be doing the right thing. But you’ve got to keep working on finding the difference between _right_ and _best_. Sometimes I’m gonna have to miss out on helping my friends if I’m taking some time for myself to relax. I want to be helpful, but I can’t help my friends _all_ the time, right?”

“...Right,” Patton admitted, staring at the floor, regret scribbled across his expression.

“Virge,” Thomas continued. 

Virgil, at the mention of the nickname, brought his hood up, hands mashed into his pockets. “Yeah?”

“You can put the hood down, dude. No need to hide.” Thomas’s smile was understanding and amused. “I get it: you’re trying to protect me from anything bad happening. You don’t mean to be too harsh. It’s your job to stress me out. But same thing I said to Patton applies to you. Let’s pick and choose our battles. Because too much stress...has been really exhausting, honestly.”

Virgil complied, removing his hood and biting his thumbnail as he refused to meet Thomas’s eyes. 

“And Ethan.”

Deceit lowered his head, looking at Thomas from under the rim of his hat. “Say what you like, Thomas,” he said, poised and polished as ever. “I’ll concede to your notion that we’ve been especially hard on you lately. But I _won’t_ concede that I shouldn’t have been keeping Laziness from you this whole time. As you’ve seen, he is far too extreme in what he wants for you. Putting all of us under his silly spells, parading around in your head like he owns the place...it’s more than enough proof that he’s not ready to help you.”

“I don’t know, though,” Thomas reflected with a shrug. “The way he’s behaved kind of reminds me of a certain someone who was disguising himself as other sides and trying to reinforce a very _extreme_ idea that the only acceptable response to conflict was to _lie_.”

Deceit flushed. “We are _not_ the same, Thomas. _I_ know what’s best for you.”

“Not all of the time,” Thomas countered gently. “Because if keeping Laziness away from me was the right thing to do, then why did I inadvertently summon him when I didn’t even know he existed?” He glanced down at his hands, frowning. “You are all important parts of me, no matter what,” he added. “And yeah, we’re all in agreement here that he messed up. But...he heard my call for help and came to do his job. He cares about me. Doesn’t that make him not so different from you guys?”

Deceit faltered, considering Thomas’s words. He opened his mouth to respond, but broke off upon hearing the loud yelp from behind him.

Thomas ran to Laziness, who was whimpering in his sleep on the ground, writhing as perspiration dripped down from his scalp. The screen of the Looking Glass buzzed with static, as if they’d lost the connection. “Laziness?” he asked, reaching to rustle his shoulder.

 _“Thomas!”_ Virgil barked, Tempest Tongue taking over. _“Get away!”_

Caught off guard, Thomas snatched his hand back as Laziness clawed at him like a cat. Scuttling backward, Thomas watched as Laziness’s form grew and contorted, doubling in size and looming over all of them, talons like scythes at the end of his fingers. He growled at all of them, feral, and fear blasted through Thomas when he saw Laziness’s eyes.

Bright, murderous, wolfish orange. 


	11. I'm Not Ever Going Back

_This is bad._

“What’s happening to him?” Roman cried.

Before anyone could answer, the world tilted, sending them all flying to the floor. They bounced on the cloud, scrambling to regain their balance. The dream room became black as ash, tendrils of electricity licking down the walls and across the ceiling as the air darkened. Thomas struggled to correct his footing as everything quivered, using his ukulele to keep himself up as he kneeled.

“However he manipulated this room, in connection to our dreams,” Logan elaborated in a shout, “is overwhelming him. He’s under his own spell and can’t break free!”

Laziness continued to grow, his orange glow blazing vividly as he stomped and growled like a giant. His eyes oscillated between each of them, finally fixating on Deceit in all of the pandemonium. 

_“You,”_ he thundered.

The blood drained from Deceit’s face. 

Virgil scampered in front of Deceit, putting his body between him and Laziness. “What do we do to wake him up?” he yelled at Logan, positioned to defend the other sides.

Before Logan could reply, Laziness played on his oversized ukulele, forcing all the sides down onto the ground on their stomachs.

_“Rest,”_ Laziness bellowed with an unhinged smile. _“Relax.”_

As the sides attempted to stand up, Thomas stood off to the side, panicking. Laziness stomped closer to them, surely prepared to wreak havoc once he was close enough. 

“Logan!” Thomas shouted, flustered. “What should I do?”

Logan craned his head up from his place on the ground, glasses askew. “Same tactic you used to put him to sleep!”

Thomas processed the instruction, perplexed. He fumbled as the ground shook again, making Thomas feel like he was in a snowglobe. The monstrous husk of his former lazy side waddled toward them, and Thomas knew things were just going to get worse if he didn’t act _right now_.

This was all his fault, he realized bleakly. If he’d just had enough self-awareness to insist on _one day off_ , none of this would have happened. No one would be in danger. No one would be hurt. His lazy side wouldn’t be having a full-on meltdown in response to being overwhelmed by his own nightmares.

_Wait,_ Thomas thought. _But...we didn’t watch any of his nightmares._ They’d only seen Laziness’s memories, not any crazy, topsy-turvy, symbolic dreams, like they all had.

What if Laziness didn’t have any nightmares? 

What if all of those moments in his actual life had been his nightmare?

_My job as a side is to help you, in whatever way I see fit. You were desperate for a break. I could feel it._

_You called me._

Thomas felt his resolve harden. Hanging on tight to his pink ukulele, he walked slowly and warily right into Laziness’s path—a.k.a., right into the line of fire.

“Thomas!” Virgil cried. “What are you doing?”

Thomas glanced up at Laziness, heart pinballing in his chest. _You know what to do. Let’s just hope you can pull this off._

He cleared his throat, hearing the starting note in his ear before he began to play.

_“How ’bout a lil’ self-care?”_

Laziness’s eyes descended, landing on Thomas. He felt like an ant in comparison, but even standing up to Laziness a little had fueled a fire within him. Courage racing through his veins, Thomas continued to sing, his voice stronger as his fingers followed along on the ukulele.

_“That’s exactly what we should do…”_

Laziness leaned over to hold his head in his hands, roaring. The darkness on the walls shivered, affected by the song. It was like the sun had been blotted out, but Thomas was ready to chase it all away. 

“I’m sorry you’ve been shut out this whole time,” Thomas called up, becoming emotional. “I’m sorry I made things this way. I never meant to. I’m sorry I _am_ this way. But we can’t keep fighting. You don’t deserve it. _I_ don’t deserve it.” 

He was starting to become hoarse. But he had to keep going.

_“Because just a lil’ self-care…”_

Laziness snarled, getting down on all fours in front of Thomas. He swiped an orange claw, and Thomas barely dodged, the force of the swing throwing him to the ground. Thomas winced, hand covering his upper arm. A nasty scratch crossed his bicep, blood oozing through his T-shirt.

“Thomas!” all of his other sides proclaimed in unison.

Laziness’s hand came soaring at him like a cannonball. _“I’m not ever going back!”_ he screamed, voice reverberating around the room.

Thomas bit the inside of his cheek. Gulping down the ache, he sat up, singing one last verse.

_"Will do the healing for you…”_

His voice hitched, tears scorching his throat. He waited for the impact of the hit.

But it never came.

Thomas glanced up: Laziness was staggering away, face drooping in exhaustion. But he still hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

Thomas stumbled to his feet, holding his injured arm. “I won’t let it be this way anymore, Laziness,” he said. “You don’t have to be in the dark anymore.”

Thomas started tapping on the base of the ukulele, switching to acapella as he repeated the chorus. 

_“How ’bout a lil’ self-care?_

_That’s exactly what we should do_

_Because just a lil’ self-care_

_Will do the healing for you…”_

It all happened at once. 

Laziness completely tumbled over, hitting the ground tenderly and bobbing up from the cloud, his form muddling and shifting like orange smoke.

The darkness vanished, swooping upwards like an electrically-charged phantom. 

Thomas finished the song softly, the last word whispered with relief like a lullaby. In that dizzying moment, all he could think was that he wanted nothing more than to be out of his own head.

Then the lights came up.


	12. They Know Who You Are

“Thomas?”

Thomas’s eyes crept open. He was lying in bed, covers pulled up to his chin. Sunlight filtered in through his curtains, and a jarring beeping noise to his right made him throw a hand out to slap the alarm clock.

The events of the past forty-eight hours came rushing back to him, and he flew up in bed. His fingers drifted to his upper arm, and found that his wound from the battle in his head hadn’t translated to the outside world, even if the pain from the injury still lingered.

His six sides created a half-moon around the front of his bed, watching him worriedly. 

“Guys,” Thomas gasped. “Where’s—?”

Thomas faltered, spotting his orange side in the corner. Laziness was on his knees, breathing heavily and sniffling. His appearance had turned back to normal, with his Hawaiian shirt, gold jewelry, and ruffled hair returning, as if the wickedness had drained off of him like melting frost. 

The monster had been defeated.

Now all that was left was Thomas’s seventh side.

Thomas slowly got out of bed, ignoring the way his other sides were gesturing for him to stay away. He approached Laziness with caution, every step a tiptoe toward the orange side. When he was finally close enough, Thomas kneeled before him.

“You okay?”

Laziness lifted his head. His face was streaked with tears, his entire body quaking. He stared, spellbound, as Thomas readjusted to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of him. “Thomas—”

Thomas put a finger to his own lips. “Before we talk, let’s take a sec to recollect. Want me to show you how?”

Laziness blankly copied Thomas, sitting pretzel-style on the floor.

“In for four, hold for seven, out for eight,” Thomas instructed, mimicking the exercises for his lazy side. “Let’s do it together.” He glanced back at his other sides with a patient smile. “You guys wanna join us?”

The six sides, astounded, blinked at him before nodding.

“Cool,” Thomas said. “All together, everybody.”

The sounds of their breathing filled the room, joining the soft tweeting of birds in a tree outside his house and the passing of cars on the street in his neighborhood. The sun rose higher in the sky, the sunlight slanting in his room and illuminating everything with a golden morning glow. 

Everything was calm.

_Thomas_ was calm.

He sighed after a few rounds of the exercises, looking at Laziness. “How do you feel now?”

Some color had returned to Laziness’s face, his tears simply caught in his lashes like dewdrops instead of waterfalling down his cheeks. He conjured a tissue, blowing his nose. “A little better,” he said, voice thick. “Thank you.”

“I’m surprised Virge never taught you that one,” Thomas said curiously. 

“He did.” Laziness kept his eyes glued to the floor. “I just...forgot about it.”

“It’s a good exercise. It helps me out a lot when I get swept up in my emotions.” He paused. “Which, as you can see, happens more often than not.”

Laziness thought for a moment. “Thomas—” His voice caught. “I’m sorry,” he went on, shame coloring his tone. “None of this should have ever happened. I’ve been selfish and stupid doing this to you. I thought...if I could just _talk_ to you, I could’ve changed your mind. I could’ve shown you how poorly you’ve been treating yourself lately. But it snowballed into something more. Something _bad_. Something that ended up hurting you.” He looked beyond Thomas, at the rest of the sides. “I hurt _all_ of you. I’m sorry for what I put you all through.” Laziness’s eyes swung back to Thomas. “All I ever wanted was the chance to meet you.”

Thomas nodded, absorbing the apology. He knew, in reality, this was his brain trying to make him realize he’d been overworking himself throughout the past few months. The whole adventure, like the other conundrums he featured in _Sanders Sides_ , was just his mind wrestling with the fact that he needed to start balancing work and self-care better. _Another day, another dilemma._

And deep down, he could feel it: Laziness _was_ sorry. The remorse ebbed in him like an ache. He gazed at his orange side, remembering the hulking creature he’d fought in his mind, and wondered how things had gotten so bad that the part of him that was supposed to enforce R&R had gone Super Saiyan just because Thomas valued getting his work done on time over taking a nap.

_No._ Thomas cringed. It was that course of thinking that was the issue. He was acting like he _didn’t_ value self-care, like what Laziness had been preaching was ridiculous. But clearly he did, hence Laziness’s desperation for Thomas to hear him. Thomas had, unconsciously, been ignoring him all along, because he didn’t want to accept the part of him that loved to eat unhealthy food, sleep in, and just lie around in pajamas all day.

_Repression can be very bad, indeed…_

“What _I_ want to know,” Deceit interrupted, “is what you’re going to do to repair all the damage you wrought during this little episode of yours.” His arms were crossed over his chest, his sleek persona back in place like a mask, despite the slight crack to his voice. “Need I list everything you disrupted in just one day? All the plans that now have to be rescheduled because you suddenly decided you knew what was best for Thomas?”

Thomas flinched. Even though he wanted to sweep everything under the rug and just accept Laziness as a part of him and move on, unfortunately, Laziness had seriously walloped his productivity yesterday. “Oh, God,” he groaned. “I missed that meeting with the team, didn’t I?”

Deceit’s glare at Laziness sharpened, appearing like the swish of a switchblade. 

Laziness audibly gulped. He shrunk under Deceit’s anger, holding up his ukulele like it was a shield. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do! I know I messed everything up. Whatever I can do to make it up to Thomas, I’ll do it!”

Thomas looked to Logan. “What’s the most logical thing to do here, Logan?” 

“Whatever you want to do, Thomas.” Logan nodded toward Laziness. “He is a part of _your_ personality. We’ve had a similar previous discussion when The Duke first made himself known. You cannot ignore Laziness now that Deceit has revealed him to you. Blocking him out will only further exacerbate the problem, and following his direction will augment your present maladaptive behaviors, stunting productivity.”

Thomas considered, hand on his chin. “Hm, well...I guess there’s _one_ thing you could do.”

“Anything! Just name it!” Laziness pleaded. 

Thomas’s grin was kind. “I’d really like a free-of-charge ukulele lesson. You seem to _rock_ that thing.”

Laziness’s jaw dropped. 

Deceit stuttered. “Thomas, you can’t seriously be considering allowing Zee to have a seat at the table,” he intervened. “Not after all that he’s done!” 

Thomas exhaled. “I want to extend to him the same olive branch I extended to you and Remus. I need balance, Deceit. I can’t get that if I’ve got one side left out.”

“And you can’t get that if you’ve got a side tricking and manipulating you!” Deceit insisted, throwing his hands up. “Leading us on a wild goose chase and working with some ulterior motive!”

Thomas gave Deceit a pointed look. “Like a Scooby Doo villain?”

Deceit bristled, scowling and haughtily sticking his nose up. “Don’t compare him to me. I’ve never disrupted your life, I’ve only worked to make it better.”

“And that’s what he was _doing_ , Deceit. Remember those memories we saw in the dream room? They’re just a couple examples of how he noticed things getting bad. He saw a problem I was having and did what he thought he had in order to help me. Don’t get me wrong,” Thomas added, side eying Laziness, who avoided his gaze sheepishly, “I’m not happy about how he went about all of this. He messed a lot of stuff for me yesterday and put us all through the wringer. But...he’s still a part of me. We can’t ignore that.”

“True, we can’t ignore it, but we can _maintain_ it,” Deceit shot back. “And _maintaining_ it will encompass balance. Letting him run wild, unsupervised, without comprehension of how what he advises of you will affect other facets of your life. He may be part of you, but he is an inexperienced part of you. He can’t be trusted to assist you autonomously.”

Thomas leveled a stare. “I know why you’re saying all of this, Deceit. You’re my deceitful side. You’re telling me what, in some ways, I want to hear.” He gestured outward with a breathy, near-hysterical laugh. “Who wants to acknowledge that they’re lazy? I know I don’t. Not when I have so much stuff to do everyday! Not when I’m constantly working and making sure I’m doing everything I can to not let all of the fanders down.” He quieted, shoulders slackening. “But if I keep treating any moment of reprieve as _laziness_ , then I’ll never find any peace. I’ve been viewing laziness as a bad thing, but in reality, the only bad thing here has been me and my unhealthy perception.”

Deceit reacted, lowering his head and keeping his dark look locked on Thomas. 

“You’re only doing your job,” Thomas relinquished with a sigh. “You’re keeping truths from me that I’m not ready for—this time, to my own detriment, which is, of course, _my_ fault. I wasn’t ready to face the fact that I’m inherently lazy, so you kept my lazy side from me. I wasn’t ready to face what I think being lazy _says_ about me, so you never indicated that I had a lazy side at all.” He shrugged. “I _want_ to think of myself as hardworking, but at the end of the day, I’m also as lazy as they come. I’m lazy and I procrastinate and I love junk food and I love to lie in bed and just do absolutely nothing. That’s just who I am. It’s a _part_ of who I am. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Thomas—”

“It’s okay, Deceit. I’m ready to accept it. You know that, don’t you?”

Deceit swallowed, his nod of agreement slow and reluctant. He flicked glances at all of the other sides, lastly at Laziness. “I do now, I suppose,” he admitted. “As much as I detest it, I know a great portion of this conflict has been born from my own prejudice. I’ve allowed my own bias of what I think is best for you to once again bleed into what is actually fair and functional. And that’s...wrong.”

“What I don’t get,” Thomas said, pointing between Deceit and Laziness, “is why you two don’t get along better. Sure, you act and present differently, but haven’t you realized you both stand for my most selfish desires? I’ve seen you both fight hard for what is best for me, not anyone else. Why do you butt heads so much?”

“That’s what I’d like to know, too,” Laziness said softly.

Deceit deliberately didn’t meet Laziness’s eyes. “For a long time, I didn’t see it that way,” he said, voice hollow. “My job is to make sure you’re not letting anything stand in your way in pursuit of your most selfish desires. Something that has stood in your way in the past is your natural procrastinating tendencies. Your inclination to sleeping in or taking a day off instead of digging in and getting a job done for the good of your career. It’s been a problem before. I was working hard to make sure it was never a problem again.” His lips puckered. “But now I see that this was a dangerous, extremist mindset. Valuing one side’s purpose over another was the very thing that was being done to me, and I hadn’t even realized I was doing it right back.”

He cleared his throat. “I was blinded by ambition and bitterness. I was so busy wanting what Thomas wanted, that I failed to realize what he _needed_. And that was my mistake. I’m sorry, Zee,” he said earnestly to the lazy side. “I know that doesn’t make up for everything I’ve done to you over the years. But...I hope it can be a start.”

“We’re _all_ sorry. To you and to Thomas,” Patton added. “If it hadn’t been for Laziness debuting when he did, I never would have realized how hard we’ve been on Thomas lately.”

Laziness blinked, stunned. “I...I was just doing my job.” He was suddenly meek, scratching the back of his head. “I could sense how exhausted he was, and I knew I had to step in. But even so,” he went on, ashamed, “I shouldn’t have gone behind everyone’s backs. I shouldn’t have gone behind _Thomas’s_ back. I went a little crazy.”

“A little?” Roman quipped, before being elbowed by Logan.

“Okay, a _lot_ crazy,” Laziness allowed. “And I put you all in serious danger. I was reckless and stupid. I...I wasn’t good enough for Thomas. Maybe…” He looked down. “I’m still not.”

Deceit crouched down in front of Laziness, the edge of his capelet billowing across the floor. “We are _all_ good enough for Thomas,” he promised. “We are the parts of him that make him the wonderful, well-meaning, ridiculous, and incredible young man that he is.” He stood to full height, bringing Laziness up with him. “It was wrong of me to not see that in you.”

Laziness smiled weakly. “And it was wrong of me to not see it in all of you, too.”

“Besides, anyone with the cajones to defy Deceit is okay in my book,” Remus piped up, grinning mischievously. “You’ve gotta show me that ‘putting to sleep’ trick so that I can use it on him whenever I want to sneak out. I’ve got so many new ideas to inspire Thomas!”

“Oh, because that’s _exactly_ what I want,” Deceit replied, rolling his eyes. “ _Two_ sides incessantly bothering me while I’m at work.”

“Oh, you love us, don’t try to hide it,” Remus teased.

Deceit became solemn, gazing at all of the sides before stopping at Laziness. “I...favor you all in different ways. But only because I need all of you functioning appropriately to assure Thomas’s mental and physical health. You’re all necessary to the plan.”

“That’s basically his way of saying he loves us,” Remus told the others.

Thomas chuckled before turning back to Laziness. “So, no more sleeping people to sleep? Or kidnapping? Or messing with our dreams?”

“Scout’s honor!” Laziness claimed, striking a boy scout pose. “Well, not unless you need it, of course.”

Thomas nodded. “So...now what?”

“Well, how do you feel?” Laziness asked, hands clasped together in front of him. He waited anxiously for Thomas’s answer, holding his breath.

Thomas lifted his shoulders, blinking a few times. “I...I actually feel _great_.” The exhaustion that had been seeped into his bones for so long had vanished. He felt more alert, focused, his head clearer and less foggy. His headache was gone, his joints more loose and his eyes no longer bleary. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that well-rested. “I really feel great!”

“You do?” Laziness bounced on the tips of his toes, giddy. He was practically vibrating with excitement. “You do,” he repeated, beaming. “I can feel it. You feel so much _better_.”

“So much better,” Thomas said, “that I think it’s time I get back to work, guys.”

“A progressive initiative, indeed, Thomas,” Logan agreed, both relieved and exasperated, making a motion that screamed _Finally!_ “As we’ve established, it will benefit you to make haste and address your currently lopsided productivity scale.”

“English?” Thomas asked with an eyebrow raised.

Suddenly Virgil’s voice was amplified, his Tempest Tongue making Thomas’s hair stand on its end. Virgil’s eyes bored into Thomas’s, the stress smearing his eyeshadow. _“It means you better get your butt in gear, Sanders,”_ he rumbled, _“before I kick it into next week.”_

Thomas yelped, a good-natured (but nervous) laugh fizzling from his lips. “Okay, okay, I hear you loud and clear, purp-man! I’m gonna go call my friends and profusely apologize for missing the meeting yesterday. Logan, can you throw together a to-do list for me?”

Logan’s eyes sparkled, a notebook and pen already in hand, a grin twitching around his mouth. “I thought you would never ask, Thomas.”

“Thank you, thank you! Be back soon!”

Thomas swiped his phone and sprinted out of his bedroom, plans for short videos unfurling in his mind. He walked himself through a potential schedule for the day, full of enough energy to tackle any task without breaking a sweat. 

But even better: he was _happy_ to have a full schedule again. He wasn’t overwhelmed or overworked, or intimidated by the bullet points that were printed on his to-do list.

“I still have so much to _do_ ,” he realized with enthusiasm, grabbing a banana and making a pot of coffee. So many fun and exciting projects to work on! So much to look forward to in the future professionally and personally!

All the while, the sides watched Thomas flurry from task to task, mirroring the smile he had on his face.

Deceit placed a hand on Laziness’s shoulder, his voice low and pleased. “Well done.”

Thomas felt Laziness’s joy singing in him like an old, familiar song. 


	13. Do You Know Who You Are?

A week later, Thomas summoned Laziness to his living room.

His lazy side practically jumped up into view, a huge grin stretched across his face. “Hey, Thomas! I’m so excited for today’s jam session. I tweaked that version of ‘Forbidden Fruit’ that you found online and I think you’re really gonna love—”

He stopped, spotting the camera set up on the tripod in the corner. He balked, noticing the red beeping light on the camera.

“Thomas,” he said carefully. “What’s going on?”

Thomas stood in his usual spot in the center of the living room, biting back a smile. He wore the new pink button-up he’d treated himself to, the purple Hawaiian flowers that adorned it shining in the spotlight he’d set up next to the TV. His ukulele hung from its strap around his neck, and he shifted it onto his back, saying, “I’m filming _Sanders Sides_ today, remember?” 

“Yes, I remember,” Laziness said, and Thomas was impressed he’d already memorized Thomas’s work schedule. “But I thought you were filming earlier today?”

_“Weeeeelll,”_ Thomas drawled, eyes rolling upward playfully, “I was thinking I’d push it back to now. During our jam session.”

Laziness took an involuntary step back. “You don’t mean—”

“Oh yes, I do,” Thomas confirmed, swooping his bangs back and checking his reflection in the lens of his camera. “We’re gonna film your debut episode! This is what I’m thinking.” He began to tick each thought off on his fingers. “We’ll start filming your introduction into the story next week. But I’d love to include that self-care song you sing all the time. So we’re gonna use it in the episode, but I wanna release it separately from the episode, like I do all of the songs! So, today, we’re just filming ourselves jamming out. Like a super chill music video!”

Laziness went pale, shaking his head. “Thomas, I’m not ready for that!”

“You’re not? But last week you said—”

“I was different last week,” Laziness said quietly, rubbing his upper arms. “I was desperate to be a part of the group. I wanted some stuff for the wrong reasons. And sure, this has all worked out great, and I—I _love_ being a part of your life. I love helping you. But being in your show? Everyone knowing about me?” He puffed out his cheeks, unsure. “What if they don’t like me? I’m a _Dark_ Side, remember?”

Thomas furrowed his brow, contemplative. Laziness’s reaction was surprising. He’d been expecting the lazy side to jump for joy at the notion of becoming a featured side in _Sanders Sides_ , but Laziness was wearing his insecurities like a snazzy new pair of sunglasses. 

“They like Deceit and Remus,” Thomas argued, “and they’re Dark Sides.”

“Because Deceit is the slick and slimy snake-boy,” Laziness moaned, “and Remus is the crazy trash-boy! What if they think I’m boring? Or childish?”

“Yeesh, is Virge working overtime today or something?” Thomas chuckled. “They won’t think those things at all! They’re going to think you’re so cool!”

Laziness slumped, eyes moving down to the floor. “Or...what if they think I’m not good for you? I don’t want them to think you’re lazy.”

“Laziness,” Thomas laughed. “I _am_ lazy. That’s the whole point of this! It’ll be an important topic to cover through the series. That it’s okay to be a little lazy! And that you should embrace that side of you when need be.”

Laziness considered. “You really think they’re gonna like me?”

Thomas drank in the sight of Laziness, suddenly missing his usual spunk and excitement. He reflected on the past week, and how much _better_ he was feeling, now that he’d finally started prioritizing taking care of himself. He’d started getting more sleep, giving himself more time for watching TV and playing video games, and indulging in a sweet or two every once in a while. Mentally, physically, emotionally—he felt _awesome_. And that was because of how much Laziness had cared. He had risked everything just to give Thomas a day off. Thomas’s brain had been screaming for him to take a break, and it had happened in the form of Laziness appearing to him. 

“Zee,” he chided, voice softening. “You are my Hawaiian shirt-wearing, ukulele-playing, self-care-obsessed lazy side. You were there for me and saw I was having a problem when no one else did. _And_ you love to sing. They’re going to _love_ you.”

Laziness released a relieved sigh, perking up with a big smile. “Okay,” he said. “Then let’s jam!”

He made himself comfortable in the bean bag on the floor while Thomas sat on the couch. While Laziness tuned his ukulele and tightened a loose string, Thomas asked, “So, how is Monday’s schedule looking?”

“Good!” Laziness replied. “You’re gonna film in the morning, work out, shower, nap, and then meet up with everyone for pho at eight! It’s gonna be a great day.” He grinned a toothy grin. “I like working with Logan to make your schedule. I actually...really like working with everyone.”

Warmth ballooned in Thomas’s chest. He’d gotten to witness his sides getting along with the newest addition of the team all week. Things weren’t perfect yet (he didn’t think Laziness was ever going to convince Roman to try wearing a Hawaiian shirt for a day), but all things considered, the transition into having a seventh side had been smooth. Laziness collaborated with Logan everyday to sketch up a schedule that found the ideal balance of work and play. Roman and Remus were feeling more creative than ever since Thomas had started feeling better. Patton had been backing off on pushing “doing the right thing” whenever a moral dilemma emerged, which had been depleting Thomas’s guilt whenever he participated in self-care. Virgil had initially kicked the anxiety up to make sure Thomas got back on track after his day off, but had started holding back as Thomas got used to his new, well-balanced schedule, feeling pretty good himself.

And Deceit and Laziness were the dynamic duo Thomas hadn’t been expecting. Now that his priorities had shifted to value self-care more, Deceit was unstoppable in his efforts to make sure self-preservation was being maintained. Even at the slightest mention of skipping a nap to work, Deceit was popping up, making some sarcastic remark about how _of course_ it was _necessary_ that Thomas continue to edit his script when he could barely keep his eyes open. Thomas wanted balance. So Deceit was fighting for balance.

And Laziness had been observing it all with a huge grin.

“We’re happy to have you on board.” And Thomas meant it. He’d been working hard all week, and filming this section for the newest _Sanders Sides_ was the last thing on his list before he could start enjoying his weekend. The old Thomas would have worked all evening and all weekend, stressing about every little detail, losing sleep and forgetting to eat.

Not anymore.

Now he knew the truth.

He was lazy.

And that was okay.

“Ready?” Thomas asked.

Laziness took a deep breath, eyeing the camera, and nodding. “Let’s rock.”Laziness tapped his foot a few beats before starting to play. Thomas watched in awe as his fingers danced across the strings, plucking the now-familiar acoustic tune with ease. Laziness sang the first line alone.

_“How ’bout a lil’ self-care?”_

Thomas joined in by playing the harmony on his own ukulele, singing the next line, his voice sounding clear and strong.

_“That’s exactly what we should do…”_

Laziness’s smile was cautious, but was slowly growing as he became more comfortable. He sang the third line. 

_“Because just a lil’ self-care…”_

Thomas shimmied his shoulders a little to the beat.

_“Will do the healing for you…”_

There was a short section that was just the instrumentals. As he played, Thomas glanced around the living room. The walls were splashed with the gentle orange glow of the sun setting in the horizon. The twinkle lights he’d hung above the couch (“For _ambiance_ ,” Roman had insisted) gleamed dreamily, and the world felt blurry and safe and calm.

Thomas and Laziness sang the chorus once more, now together, Thomas harmonizing to Laziness’s melody. They bumped their knuckles along the ukulele and clapped in sync, replicating the acapella version of the song Thomas had created in his mind.

Back when Laziness was a villain.

Back when self-care wasn’t taken seriously.

_“How ’bout a lil’ self-care?_

_That’s exactly what we should do_

_Because just a lil’ self-care_

_Will do the healing for you…”_

They finished, Laziness ending the last couple notes with a flourish. Thomas high fived his lazy side, delighted with the quality of the take. 

Months later, the _Sanders Sides_ episodes were filmed and uploaded, and it was time to upload his little music video. He could feel Laziness fidgeting, but all of the other sides were reassuring him that everything would be fine. Seated with his laptop, Thomas typed up the title, and couldn’t wipe the happy smile from his face. 

And deep inside his head, neither could Laziness. 

_The Self-Care Song | Sanders Sides_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and THANK YOU for arriving to the end of this story with me! This was an especially fun one to write and I enjoyed this journey immensely. Thank you for all of your kind and thoughtful comments and kudos! I hope you are all staying safe out there and thank you all again for your time and dedication! I hope you all loved reading this story as much as I loved writing it!!! :)
> 
> \- TwistingMoonbeam


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